Temper me in fire
by voldobaby
Summary: The world of Moroi and Dhampirs is very different, political turmoil has opened up a vacuum in which illegal and immoral actions can transpire, such as slavery of Dhampirs. Rosemarie Hathaway is born into slavery in Arizona. Her life revolves around tending to her chores and making herself inconspicuous. But that all changes when Mr.Dashkov and his Guardians arrive
1. Chapter 1

**"Temper us in fire, and we grow stronger. When we suffer, we survive." - Cassandra Clare. **

_My name is Rosemarie Hathaway. Only my mother calls me by my full name, other's call me Rose. Well I'd like them to but they don't speak to me at all. This is my writing exercise. I don't see the point in __practicising__ practicing writing if I will never use it but my mother says it matters. No one knows I can write and read. _

_I am seventeen years old. My birthday is __march__ March 25__th__. _

_It is now July 26__th__ and even before the sun has risen I can feel it will be a very hot day. We are in Arizona, I'm not sure where that is but that it is in America and it is a state. Most of the others will be waking up soon so this will be destroyed. I don't know what the guardians would do I they found it but I know it would not be good. I would like to see the look on the mistress's face though. Her head may pop like a balloon left out in the sun. _

"Rosemarie." My mother's voice is a quiet hiss between our two bedrolls. It's very dim at the back of the barn and I know she finds it harder to read back here than I do. I purse my lips and my stomach bubbles uneasily. I shouldn't have wrote that part about the mistress but I couldn't help myself. "You shouldn't write things like this. It's a waste."

"I shouldn't be able to write at all." I whisper back and instantly regret it. My mother hated when I was like this, when I couldn't control what I said. "I don't think they'd care much about what I've written but more that I could in the first place. "

I feel the weight of her eyes on me and I pull at a loose piece of straw sticking out of my mattress.

"You know better." She says quietly and I wince. "I've done all I can to make sure you know better, do not be arrogant with your knowledge."

I'm not quite sure what she means but I know she's disappointed.

"Sorry mom." I mumble and pull the strand of hay free.

Her hand touches my shoulder gently. "Don't call me that." And she pulls away. She folds up the scrap of paper I'd snatched from the trash and tucks it into the front of her trousers. It wasn't a place that kept our secrets completely safe but it made her worry less. I wonder where she'll destroy it tomorrow. Maybe she'd bury it in the orchard or far beneath the berry bushes.

"Why can't I call you mom anymore?" I sound like a child and I hated it. I hated it because I missed being a child, when I didn't care about anyone else only my mother. I missed how she sang me to sleep, how she would wrap her arms around me at the end of the night, when she told me everything would be alright and the rules were a lot simpler. Now the rules were changing.

"Because it shows your age, you know that."

"Why does that matter?"

"You know why it matters."

"I know what you told me, I don't understand."

"If you have to talk to me at all, in front of anyone you call me 'Janine' because it makes you blend in with the others. Calling me 'mom' shows that you are young, that you look to someone, that you are vulnerable and we don't want to show that."

"Because if they look at me they'll notice I'm changing?" I say quietly. A dark and heavy feeling knots around my stomach.

In the dim light I see her lined face is grave. "Yes. Now go to sleep."

She turns away from me and lies down on her front. Her arms folded under her head, the position she sleeps in now, instead of being pressed against my back. Looking down at her small body I think she almost looks like a child. Looking around the barn and seeing the small mounds of blankets I guess they all looked like children too.

I could feel the day creeping into the barn, the heat pressing through the wood. I'd hung back this morning before coming inside because I wanted to see the sun rise. But I only got to see the curve of gold in the distance, turning the sky the colour inside nectarines, before he told me to get inside. The others had settled down into their own spaces, I'd made my way to the back keeping my head down and taking in the shapes made in the gravel. I knew they didn't like that we had some privacy to our own area, a sheet that hung from a low beam at the very back of the barn, when they had to change and wash in front of each other. Privacy came at a price, I'd recently understood, and it wasn't much of a benefit to us but more to someone else.

I cringe away from the memories that spring up in my head.

I shimmy down the mattress and even though my body is heavy I know sleep won't come. Leaning up on one elbow I take out the small book from under my bedroll and carefully open it up. The paper crinkles as I separate the pages apart from the one I'd last folded down in the corner. I'd memorize at least four words before I tried to sleep.

A single word caught my eye on the opposite page, taking me away from the one I'd been replaying in my mind. It was a word I thought I knew but reading its meaning made my mind trip over it.

Love: A strong feeling of affection: _babies fill parents with intense feelings of love.__  
__A strong feeling of affection and sexual attraction for someone: __they were both__**in love with**__her  
__A great interest and pleasure in something._

My mother had told me before, a long time ago, that she loved me. I was her child and this said love is what I gave to her. I loved her to. I traced the second line with my finger that told me love was _sexual attraction _and felt my face grow hot as my vision blurred. I shut the book louder than I should have and wipe angrily at my eyes. I snatch it up and lean over to the dugout hole at the base of the wooden post and drop it inside. I push the small heap of gravel piled beside it over it until the ground is even and another secret is hidden.

I turn my back on it and stare at the back of my mother's head, trying to breathe slower, trying to stop pictures forming in head and sounds echoing in my ears. I shut my eyes and try to picture the sunrise.

/

The kitchen is heavy with the smell of chocolate and pastry and everything sweet. Apples have been sliced and prepared for baking and my mother is drizzling honey over yoghurt topped fruit. Glazed scones and Muffins are like golden treasure in the centre of the table. My mouth waters and my fingers itch. Mary says something to my mother and she laughs, it's an odd sound that pulls my mind away from the food.

"This can't be for us." I say, terrified someone will agree.

"But it is." Mary says, her face practically shining with joy. But Mary never smiled, especially not at me. If he spoke to me at all it was to snap instructions or tell me to get out of the way.

"Not yet Rose." My mother chides, slapping away my hand that I hadn't even realised had been stretching toward a golden topped muffin. Dark chips poked through the honey coloured skin and I longed to bite into it, I wanted it more than I'd ever wanted anything.

My eyes fill with impatient tears. I should not be crying, I am not a child. "But I want one."

"Not yet. You'll spoil it."

"When?"

"Soon." Mary soothes and she begins dusting powder from the marble worktop.

I am crying now, tears streaming down my face and tickling my chin. "But we have to eat now before they catch us."

The happiness begins to slip down my mother's face like water rushing down a window. The lights fading out of the kitchen, the counter tops shine is chased away and the pastries no longer glow. A shadow passes by the window and Mary drops the large bowl she'd been cleaning. Her face looks more like it usually does, lined and grim. More shadows pass by the window, black phantoms in the grey light of the kitchen.

"They heard you." Mary hisses.

I stumble back as more shadows crowd the room, angry voices coming through the back door. I look desperately for the other that leads to the hallway but it's not there.

"Oh Rosemarie." My mother says sadly and grasps the counter. She looks like she's about to fall.

I don't want to say but it comes out strangled. "Mommy."

The door explodes inward and they're coming through fast and formidable, all in black with their expressions savage and eyes glinting in the dimness. I start screaming and hands fasten around me and pain lances over my back and sides, I can't see who has the whip, I can't tell who it is hitting me. I'm yanked up by hair and it's the mistress, her eyes a cruel blue burning into me like ice against my skin. I can't breathe. I can't move.

Her lips curl back revealing her fangs.

"Mom, MOM."

I can't see her, I can't see anything past the mistress and the shadows posed by her but I hear her sigh. "I told you not to call me that. Why can't you just follow the rules?"

"I'm Sor-"The words that are always useless, that I know don't bring mercy, are cut off by my scream as the mistress lunges toward my neck.

/

I jolt. My eyes snap open and above me is a golden pillar stretching down to hug the wall in a rectangle of sunlight. Dust is dancing in the ray and the smell of must and sweat and wood fill my nose. I jerk as a hand touches my shoulder. My mother is kneeling beside me. Her red hair that's threaded with silver is already pinned back and her pale face makes the lines around her eyes stark, reminding me too much of my dream. "I said, get up."

I lean up onto my elbow and see through a gap in the sheet that the others are up. Most of them sat in their spaces hunched over their breakfast, others dressing. I can't help but think all their faces are the same. They all remind of dank rags, discoloured and shabby after years of use. I remember my dream, all the brightness and loveliness of the start of a sunrise before it descended into a nightmare. Waking up still left me in that dark kitchen, it always would.

"Are you feeling alright?"

I look up into my mother's face. She didn't sound worried but I could see it in her eyes. "I'm fine."

The worry disappears and leaves her brown eyes empty. "Come on, time to get ready."

My throat feels like a swallowed without chewing properly, as it usually does now she has to help me dress, but I stand and follow her to the corner where the sheet completely hides us. As soon as we're both out of view I raise my arms and she pulls the oversized ratty shirt I sleep in over my head. Even though it's silly, even though she's seen me like this before, I still hold my arms over my chest to hide. I keep my eyes on the floor as a strange chill creeps over my skin, which has nothing to do with the temperature but the fear of being seen. From the corner of my eye I see her rummaging quietly behind the few things she's managed to hide back here.

When she's found what she's looking for she turns back to me. "Up."

I hesitate and then I raise my arms. Her hand presses the fabric to my ribs as she crosses it over my chest, around my back and overlaps where it began. She tugs it tight and I close my eyes and she repeats this over and over. I wonder how long this will matter for, hiding parts of me away, and if it matters at all.

A lank curl falls over my face. It's heavy and my scalp feels strange where my hair has escaped its knot and fallen. "Can I wash tomorrow?"

"How many days has it been?"

"Five."

"Yes." I know she would prefer I wouldn't but I felt horrible and the smell that clung to me reminded me of rotting fruit.

A glint catches my eye. The gold chain of her necklace has risen above her collar. I'd only seen pendant that hangs from it a couple of times, a golden oval with an eye in its centre. She didn't like to talk about it and she didn't like to see me looking at it. When I was younger, and hadn't learned when to stop asking questions, she told me it was from 'another life' and that it wasn't important. As she moves the chain disappears back under her collar I glance down to see that she's almost done. She tugs the bandages tighter and begins tucking the ends into the folds. It would be a few hours until I was used to the restriction.

She steps back and looks at me with a slight frown.

I want to shrink away, to disappear. "Is it alright?"

Her lips purse and she nods. I turn away to get dressed with the weight of her disappointment settling in my empty stomach and the hatred of my own skin burning in my mind.

She leaves me to dress. I tug the hairband out with some difficulty and run my fingers through the greasy snares of my hair. My scalp feels like its lightly bruised and I want to knead it with my fingers but it would have to wait. I twist it back up and snap a band around it. I pull on my faded red shirt and notice how it now clings to my stomach now instead of hanging loosely. I pull it away from my body in attempt to stretch it but the materials become so thin I worry it will rip. How was I not aware of this change? Or maybe I'd been trying to hard not to notice my body changing I'd ignored it. My mother hadn't been ignoring it. These new curves and dips of my body had her staring at me as if I'd been rolling in horse manure. I didn't know why my body was betraying me and according to her it wouldn't be long before it made something terrible happen.

When she comes back I'm pulling on my shoes and she has breakfast, a slice of thick bread with some blueberries. She tears the bread in half and holds out the bigger piece. I open my mouth to argue but she casts me a look that tells me this reoccurring argument will end the way it always does. I snap my mouth shut and take it. It wasn't that much bigger than hers but bigger is still more. She tilts some berries into my other palm.

We stand chewing in silence. They others are equally quiet.

The heat had crept into the barn and I could tell it was going to be scorching today. I could usually bear the heat pretty well, it didn't bother me, I was used to it I suppose. However my mother struggled though she never complained. Her fair skin burned and blistered where it wasn't covered.

"Keep your bottle filled today." She says.

"You too."

"Their son is coming home tonight." She says plainly and to anyone else it would look like this didn't bother her. But I knew it made her anxious, everything had to be perfect or what would happen…well I didn't want to think about it. "I'll be in the kitchen most of the day preparing and serving later. You come straight inside when you're finished. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Keep your head down, do your work and don-"

"Don't draw attention to myself. I know."

The silence is tense. She throws her cupped hand back against her mouth, swallowing her small amount of berries in one gulp. I cradle mine in my own palm, picking up one and popping it into my mouth. She picks up our bottles and hands me mine. Without a word we make our way out of the barn, past the few who were still eating and out into the blazing sun.

/

Sweat was running down my back and I roll my shoulders uncomfortable with the wet tickle. I was looking forward to washing and even the thought of the freezing water couldn't curb it. It was the hottest it had been so far this year, so cold water didn't sound terrible and I was sure that if I went another day without bathing I would start attracting flies. Through the holes in my shoes I can feel gravel, it's hot against my feet and oddly I like how it felt rubbing against my soles. It's a privilege to even have shoes, most of the other's had never owned a pair or had worn them out until they fell apart. My own were being held together with tape and I was sure they weren't going to survive much longer.

The person in front of me shuffles forward to the tap and refills their bottle. They have no shoes, the skin on top has turned pink and soles looked rough and dirty. They move away and on the dusty ground, where they had just stood, was a patch darker than what water made.

Blood.

I glance after them, a man, returning to the field. I didn't know his name but I didn't really know anyone else's name here. I knew his face, those I knew of everyone here because not being able to talk to them meant I had nothing to do but watch.

"Anytime today."

I flinch and glance up at the shadow standing by the kitchen door. A man, a Guardian.

The outside tap was under the kitchen window, where my mother currently was. The smells drifting out of the open door sent my stomach into hungry knots and it was another reason to get away from here as soon as possible. I unscrew my bottle cap quickly and shove it under the tap. The hand that held the bottle shook and I cursed it. I could feel the Guardians eyes on me.

"Hot today isn't it?"

I watch the water level rise, wishing the flow was faster. I hear a crisp crunch and chewing. I don't dare look up but I guess he's eating an apple. My stomach spasms.

"Did you hear me?" His voice is thick and I presume it's because his mouth is full. Despite this I can hear amusement in his voice.

The water is nearly to the top.

"Are you deaf and dumb? If it's only the second then you're being very rude. If it's the first, well, I can say whatever I please."

"You'd say it anyway."

He stops chewing. The water overflows onto my hand. I stare at it, willing it to move.

_Oh no, no please no. _

"Yes." He says. "I suppose I would. You're wasting water little girl." I jerk the bottle back and water spatters my shirt. My fingers are clumsy on the tap as I shut it off. "Do you think wasting water in southern Arizona, in the middle of July, is wise?"

Everything in me is telling me to run but my mind is numb. I shake my head and try to twist the bottle cap back on but I drop it. I trip on my feet as I turn and bend to retrieve it from the hot dirt but a hand snatches it up.

I stare at the black boots, the toes covered in dust. "I asked you a question."

I shake my head.

"No smart remark this time?"

Something hot sparks in my chest. I shy away from it, my mother's face in my mind. It couldn't have been more than a second's hesitation but I shook my head again.

"Good." He drew the word out, like he was slowly carving it into my skin to remind me who was in charge. He held the cap out in his tanned hand. The fingers calloused like the palms. I glared at it.

"Rosemarie." The voice was sharp and my head snaps up to see my mother in the kitchen doorway. Her face was flushed and shiny, that wasn't strange to see but this time it didn't look right, it looked feverish. The fire goes out and despite the afternoon sun I feel cold. She looks from me to the Guardian and I notice how she doesn't cringe away, how she looks at him in the face showing no fear. Its hits me how brave she is. "Is there a problem Guardian Alto?"

"No, I think the problem has resolved itself." He says from above my head, his voice coated in delight. My hands clench. The hand in front of my face nudges forward impatiently, the bottle cap in its palm. "At least I think she has."

I take the cap quickly.

"Guardian Alto, I'm sorry if she offen-"

I look up at her, half ashamed she's apologising for me and half confused to why her words are slurring. My mother's come out onto the step, one hand raised toward us in a pleading gesture but her eyes are on us but they're not really seeing us. She sways and her hand drops.

"Mom." I breathe.

"Are you-" The Guardian pauses as my mom drops like a doll to the ground.

It's like everything stops. The heat stills in the air, the ground stops burning beneath it, the quiet rustle of the others picking berries fades and I think how the Guardian could have darted forwards and caught her if he wanted to. Instead, there is a hallow ringing in my ears as I watch my mother's face hit the dust.

Sound comes rushing back and I throw myself towards her.

"Mom, mom!" I pull her onto her back. Her eyes are closed and she's shiny with sweat. I shake her but she doesn't open her eyes but her eyelids are twitching as if she's seeing things behind them. My chest is tightening like someone has a spanner attached to it, pulling tighter and tighter.

I twist to look up to the Guardian. "Please, please help her."

"She's only fainted. Slap her." He takes another bite of his apple. I open and shut my mouth and turn back to her.

"Mom." I say, trying to make my voice clear, as I pat her face. Her skins hot under my hands, too hot.

He sighs loudly and then I'm flung backwards. "Move."

I scramble up onto my knees as he kneels beside her and slaps her face.

"Don't hurt her." I'm surprised by my own voice, it sounds like a growl.

He ignores me. "Hey, hey. Can you hear me"

"Janine."

"Janine, can you open your eyes." He puts the back of his hand to her forehead. "Guess not. She's got a fever." He stands up and clicks his fingers at two male others, who had been dropping heavy looking sacks at the side of the house. I crawl over to my mother and take her head into my lap. Her cheek is red where his hand struck it and it makes my teeth clench together painfully.

"Move her head up more." A quiet voice says. I didn't see her come out, or noticed some others from the kitchen had gathered at the backdoor, but Mary's holding a glass of water to my mother's lips. Someone else comes out of the doorway and gives Mary a wet cloth.

"She's not going…she's not going to die is she?" My voice has collapsed back to childhood.

"No." Mary says firmly. My tightness around my heart eases a little. She dabs my mother's face with the cloth.

"Get that one back to her quarters." The Guardian voice is hard and unsympathetic, slamming the reality of the situation into me. My jaw goes slack and my hands are useless as they clutch my mother. I look up at him but the sun blazes past his shoulders concealing his face. "Tell someone to keep an eye on her."

I realize he's talking to the two male others, who are staring obediently at his shoes, they nod and move towards us. My fingers curl tighter into my mother's shirt as they come toward us. I don't know why but I feel I need to protect her, especially from these men, especially when she can't protect herself, when she doesn't know what's going on. She should always know what's going on.

I'm yanked away from her and I yelp. The guardian has seized the back of my shirt again but this time he keeps hold. The two others lift her from the ground, one taking her under the arms and the other taking her legs. They shuffle off, without thinking I try to go after them but I'm pulled back again, this time my feet are just touching the ground. I stare helplessly after them.

"I assume that one was needed in the kitchen?" The guardian sounds irritated, as if this whole thing has been an inconvenience to him. His grip on me doesn't loosen and I'm struck then by how the material of shirt is straining against my body and I fear everyone's going to notice. I suddenly feel naked.

I begin to shake.

"Yes." Mary answers quietly. "She prepares and serves."

"And with young Mr Ozera coming home tonight I'm sure there is a lot to be done."

Mary nods.

"Well, the pup will have to replace her _mommy_ then." He shoves me forward and I fall into Mary, both of us stumble but manage to stay upright.

"But she can't, she doesn't know-" Mary splutters and then bite her tongue under the Guardians glare. We both drop our gazes and I see her hands are shaking.

"I suggest you get back to work." He says quietly and it was the most dangerous voice I'd ever heard. "Mr and Mrs Ozera are very particular and you know better than to disappoint them."

/

Hey Guys! So if any of you have read my "Road back to us." then you'll know this is an idea I had kicking around and I've finally started it! I have almost everything mapped out so it's just about the writing it!

I'm really excited to write this and I hope you guys enjoy it :)

I'll aim to have chapter 2 up by the end of the weekend, time to meet the Ozera's...


	2. Chapter 2

When the crunch of the Guardian's boots has faded Mary lets out a long, shaky breath. I feel dazed but at the same time my mind is racing. She pushes past me and disappears back into the kitchen. I stare out across the yard in the direction the others had gone with my mother, the barn doors are open and I can't see anybody inside from here. I also can't hear anything, no shouting or sounds of struggle. I take a step in that direction, trying to decide whether I should do what I want to do and run after them. I freeze when two figures emerge, the two men. I watch as they walk back this way with their heads bowed. In the time they'd taken there could be no way they could have done anything of my darkest fears could they? Could they? I didn't know, maybe they had, maybe they'd-

"Get in here!" I jump and then cringe at the look on Mary's face as she leans out the kitchen window. I look back at the barn, one foot sliding toward the backdoor and the other staying planted in the ground. Sweat slides down my face and I could hear my heart beating in my ears. What would my mother tell me to do?

She'd tell me to stay out of trouble and to follow the rules.

I swallow and head toward the backdoor. The feeling of wrongness telling me this is what she'd want because too often when she did I felt like this.

It wasn't much cooler inside but it was shaded at least. I think about my dream and how the marble countertops had been shiny and clean. How the white cupboards and drawers had gleamed and how the kitchen is nothing like that now. It is in chaos. Mary was bearing over two other women who were slicing up some kind of meat, pork I'd guess. Vegetables lay chopped and sorted in bowls with the discarded pieces lying messily on the counter in the centre of the large room. Something was simmering on one of the eight burners on the stove and something else was warming in the oven.

"Right you-" Marys come up beside me. Her lined face is stern and her eyes are just as hard as the Guardians had been. Whatever she'd been about to say is disregarded as her eyes sweep over me and then narrow. "You are _filthy. _What have you been doing today? Or do you just like being a pig."

I don't react to her words, not outwardly. She takes me by the elbow and steers me toward the huge sink in the corner, its deep basin utilized to wash food. "Wash your hands. Get the dirt out from under your nails and take off those shoes. There are slips in the cupboard. "

She releases me roughly so my hip bangs into the sink. That irritating flame spring up in my chest but thankfully Mary's marched off to the other side of the kitchen and is furiously slicing through carrots. I push down against the flame and the strange hunger that's urging me after her.

I kick off my shoes and set them in the corner and open the cupboard to the left of the basin. The slips were balled up into pairs. I remembered them from when my mother had to use them and I was small enough she could put me into the sink to wash my feet. I unroll them and I'm surprised by the softness of the material. They would have to keep these good I guess, to move through the house. I pull on one black slip and it covers the bottom of my foot and toes, leaving the top of my foot bare. I pull on the other.

I snatch up the bar of soap and turn on the faucet, measuring out the right temperature between cold and hot. I lather up my hands and despite knowing my hands are filthy I'm surprised by just how much. It might have just been because how black the water was running against the white surface or how the block of soap's lather turned brown under my hands but the evidence repulsed me. I scrub my nails with one of the small brushed I'd watched my mother use before. When I'm done my hands look unfamiliar to me. The skin, my skin, is a warm light brown and is smooth. My fingernails aren't crusted with dirt and strangely I think my hands are pretty. Which was stupid, how could hands be pretty? It was probably because they hadn't been so clean in days and the light in the kitchen heightened it because it was always darker in the barn.

Sweat slides down into my eye and I'm broke out of my silly thoughts.

_Stop behaving like a child. You have work to do._

I put the soap back on its holder and reach to turn off the tap. My hand hesitates. Mary looked disgusted by the sight of me and she hadn't been looking at my hands, she'd been looking at my face. And what if someone else looked at me like that and really didn't like it. The others who worked inside the house looked very different to the ones who worked outside, they always looked clean. Their clothes were shabby and were threadbare but clean. I glance over at the three other women in the kitchen and see my thoughts are true.

I pick up the soap and work it between my hands quickly to create a great lather. I dip my hands under the tap and bring it up to my face. I felt the days of sweat and grime slipping off my skin, the texture under my hands changing so it was longer oily but softer. I opened my eyes just enough to grope for the soap and caught a glimpse of the basin below, it was far darker than it had been with my hands.

"Girl." Mary snaps. I scrub my face faster. I'd taken so much time. As I wipe my face I realize how some parts feel tighter, around my nose especially, it was strange.

I scurry over to Mary who has already begun giving me orders before I reach her. "…find Serena, she's blonde, she can finish what your mother started. You'll have to take over whatever she's doing. Now she should be in the library or sitting room." She looks up at me, her stern face ready to deliver something with emphasis – my mother liked that word. She said it meant something very important. It usually meant if I didn't do it I would be punished. – but she stops. Her eyes somehow seemed to really see me, as if the layer of dislike she usually looked through slipped away and she was seeing me without it. Her eyes roamed over my face and I looked down.

She clears her throat and her voice was sharp again. "You make no noise when you're in the house. None at all, understand?" I knew that. I'd been in there before but it had been years. I nod. "When you finish Serena's work you get back here. I'm gonna have everyone switching around today just to be able to – why are you still here?"

The last part was like she'd struck me and I bolt for the door on the opposite side of the room, tripping up the steps up to it. I stumble through the door into the corridor of the house. I lean back against it my heart hammering in my chest and weighed down by the feeling that I was getting smaller. I give my head a shake. I had rules to follow, Mary had given me orders. All I had to do was follow them.

I take a deep breath and try to think around other things. I'd been in this house before, when I was little and didn't want to be outside or when my mother wanted me close. I had to be quiet, always quiet and never touch anything. I didn't mind it though because it was cooler inside the house and my mother liked it.

The library… the library was to the right of the main stairs. It was on the hall that led to the Guardian's quarters.

My eyes snap open and I begin hurrying silently down the narrow hall. I reach the mouth that opens up into a room with a set of stairs to my immediate right, on the right wall is the door I need to go through to get to the main part of the house and to my left is the dining room. My eyes linger on the grand table. The wood was so dark it seemed black. A chill passes over me and I turn my back on it, trying not to think or imagine things that could happen later, and run to the other door on the balls of my feet.

I run as quietly as I can through the house, the size of it washing over me again and again. I'd seen it every day from the outside, watched as the sun rotated around it, casting huge shadows across the earth. When it was time for the lunch the house's shadow sheltered us like huge umbrella in the back yard, so it was easier to refill your bottle and get your meal from the kitchen. But being inside was different, all the different details, all the pictures and furniture made it seem even bigger, like I'd never be able to let it all sink in. Like I would never be able to turn my back and know what was behind me.

I wished I were outside. Even though it was cool in here, like a mild day in winter.

When I reach the main hall my pace slows and I'm even more away of my footfalls on the marble floor. I slip once, having been transfixed on the looming staircase that led up to the dark, I right myself and dart into the east side of the house. Paintings line the walls of this hallway but I don't pause to look. Not even for the one of a ship rising up on a hill of water, my favourite as a child.

I reach the door I think to be the library and hesitate, my hand rising as if to knock. I drop it and push the door open slowly. There were four others in here, all working so quietly they could have been ghosts. It's easy to spot Serena, her hair was the colour of a worn doorknob and she was the only girl with light hair here.

I drift past the others who see and then unsee me. When I reach her she's got one foot on the ladder, a bottle and a rag tucked under her arm. I touch her shoulder lightly and she jumps. I repeat what Mary has said and she listens with blank eyes. Without a word she hands me the bottle and rag and leaves.

I look down at the tools in my hands and up at the rows upon row of books. The shelves stretch up to the ceiling, the ladder was attached to a rail at the very top. Curiously I push the ladder and it heavily shifts to one side. I'd never been so high before. I'd never climbed a tree in the orchard this big. My stomach quivers and before I realise it I have one foot on the bottom rung, and my lips are tugging upwards.

/

I'd been up and down the ladder eight times and more than once I had to snap at myself to remember this was important work. But when I did forget it was because of how aware I was of being so far from the floor and how my hand on the ladder was the only thing keeping me from falling as I reached out to polish the shelves. This was a different kind of fear. The fear was contained to myself because it was my body I relied on to keep me out of trouble and I trusted my body to keep me from falling. I felt in control. This fear was exciting. It made the smell of leaves and apples fill my mind, when me and Eddie dared each other higher –

My fingers slip on the rung and my heart lurches. I scrabble to keep my grip, losing it on the polish bottle in the process. It's like it falls slowly and quickly at the same time. Then it hits the ground with a metallic thud. The others jump and swivel round, eyes darting around and then to the bottle and then up at me.

The silence is deafening.

They turn away but one woman glares at me until I'm forced to turn away from her. My heart is pounding in my ears. I start climbing down with no trust in body at all and hoping if I do fall it knocks me out.

_It wasn't that loud. Nobody heard outside the room, it wouldn't carry through the walls. They wouldn't hear. If it was loud a Guardian would be here by now. _

I reach the bottom. No one has come in. Nobody is looking at me anymore. It was an accident. It was a lucky accident, it wasn't loud. I pick up the bottle with shaky fingers.

Eddie flashes behind my eyes. His hair the colour of the corn and his light brown eyes alight with laughter. My throat tightens and I clench my jaw. I move the ladder over to the last row of shelves. I would not think about it, I would not think about him. I reach inside myself for the numbness and it comes, settling over me like a blanket and making everything seem unreal and real at the same time. I start climbing back up, not feeling the exciting fear, not feeling power, not feeling anything.

/

I hurry back to the kitchen, running on the balls of my feet through the dim halls. I pass two shadows, Guardians, but I don't look at them. When I reach the kitchen I pause on the step.

"Shut the door." Mary hisses. She heaves a bubbling pot off a burner and into the sink by the window. "You know they hate the smells in the house." I shut it behind me. Steam is billowing from pots, two ovens are lit up and various meats and dishes are cooking on their shelves. Serena's posed over a large sponge holding an icing tube, absorbed in decorating it. I jump down the steps and rush over to Mary. "They'll be coming in from the fields soon and I need to do the Guardian's lunches. There's boxes in the pantry and cooler for- "

"Our meals. I know."

She glances at me. "Well what are you waiting for?"

I rush past Serena - realizing her, Mary and my mother are the only others I know by their name – and pull open the heavy door to the cooler. A blast of cold air hits me and when I step inside I shriek and jump back, almost falling over. The ground was like ice inside. I retrieve my shoes and pull off my slips, rolling them back up and stuffing them back into the cupboard.

I hurry back to the cooler, pulling my shoes on along the way and duck inside. I can still feel the chill through the soles of my shoes but it's far better than being in the slips. There are rows upon rows of food in here on metal shelves, mostly meats I wouldn't know how to cook, packets and boxes of things I don't pause to inspect. Our stuff is near the back.

I stop in front of two boxes on the floor and it strikes me how small they are compared to everything else in here. There are so many of us and we get so little. There were two masters of the household who have more than enough every night, and now the third was coming home they'd be made double. Whatever wasn't piled onto their plates then the Guardian's got it. Whatever they didn't eat we got… and they always ate.

The fire spreads from my chest and through my limbs and I no longer feel cold. It doesn't seem right, it can't be right and yet it's the way it has always been. But…_why? _

_They are just the same as us. The Guardians are like us aren't they? A mix of what the masters are and what we are._

I try to remember what my mother had told me but I can't quite grasp it all. I remember she told me once, when I was younger and thought crying would help, that we needed less food because we were strong like Guardians. Stronger than the masters…than Moroi.

"They come first." She'd said, smiling. Her smile had looked plastic and her eyes bitter.

I take a deep breath and drop down to inspect the boxes. I was right, scraps and remainders of the meat used for the meals yesterday, sloppily wrapped. We must have had whatever fruit was let this morning. I move the content of one into the other, it doesn't even pile half way. I lift it up. It's so light. The fire is like the morning sun under my skin.

Without even thinking about it or beyond it I start scanning the shelves. There had to be something, something they wouldn't miss, something that could go unnoticed, and something easy to pass as ours. I out the box down and start rifling through packets. I expect Mary to throw open the door to demand what's taking so long but she doesn't. I push aside some things, my fingers numbing rom the cold and pause. I snatch up the packet.

"_Ready to eat diced turkey breast."_

I could feel my pulse in my throat. The packet wasn't big but it was something. I hide it beneath the contents of the box and get out of cooler before I can grasp what I have just done. I expect someone to yell at me. Someone to grab me and trail me outside but nobody does. Nobody is paying me any attention. Serena is laying a sponge upon the one she'd decorated, the cream pushing out the edges and it looked amazing. Mary was barking at the two other women to use garlic oil.

In the pantry our box holds two loaves, some cheese and a handful dried apricots. How was I to divide this up?

I needed my mom.

The others in the field needed me to do this.

I blow out a breath and begin scanning the shelves again. Everything that was used was accounted for. Those who worked in the kitchen had to say what they'd used so there was no room to sneak things. I didn't believe that. I believed they would. But my mom never did…

I realize that was probably because of me. If she were caught she didn't just have herself to worry about.

I didn't have to write what I used though. It was risky and it was stupid but I didn't care.

I start scanning the shelves. Anything that looked like there was too much of it could afford to lose some. The only thing that I come across that I can get away with is peanut butter. I could spread just a little inside every slice and hand it out. As long as no one said anything...

I'm biting down so hard on my lip I think I'll break the skin.

"For Eddie." I whisper and grab the jar. I'm unscrewing the lid when I realize another problem. I put it back on the shelf and dart back out to the kitchen. Sliding past Serena who I feel look at me. I slide open a draw and take out a knife. It glints in my hand and I feel the same thing stir in my stomach that did at the bottom of the ladder.

"What are you doing?" Mary snaps. Her face is flushed and she's carving through a chicken breast. Next to her chopping board are six plates already graced with a salad and two cookies on each. Already sliced and packaged bread sits on the other side with sliced cheese. Guardian lunches.

I think I'd had one sandwich in my life.

The fire grumbles through my stomach. "I'm slicing up the bread in the pantry. I don't want to be in the way."

She casts me a dark look. "You wait until they've eaten understand? No stuffing your mouth in there or I'll know got it?"

My hand tightens around the steel between my fingers. "I understand."

"You have ten minutes." She says but I'm already gone, grabbing a plate from the drying stack as I go.

Back inside the pantry I start slicing up the bread first, as thick as I can get away with. The cheese is harder because there isn't enough of it. Some would go without. I cut up each apricot into thirds. When I'd finished it made me want to cry. Surrounded by so much that wasn't ours, that we were not allowed because… because…

Why?

I'd left the peanut butter to the end, encase I came to my senses and changed my mind or somebody came in. I take it off the shelf and unscrew the cap, sitting back down on the floor with my back to the door. The smell hits me and makes me dizzy. It's salty and nutty and my mouth waters.

Mary's voice comes back to me and I shake my head. The others out in the sun deserved this before I did.

I let the knife scrap across the surface, memorized at how it curls thickly up against the steel. I lift the knife out of the jar unable to look away from the light golden brown paste. I want to know how it could smell so salt and yet sweet at the same time. I lean back and take a deep breath, snatching up one of the slices. I smooth it on, it's not easy to spread but I can't use more. I pick up some of them meat and lay it on top. I fold the slice over with the butter and meats nestled in the centre and regard it. They'd probably wonder why they were folded but maybe not. When you're coming in from the field all you want it food no matter how it's laid out. My stomach gurgles.

I pick up another slice.

/

I pour the remaining little pile of apricots into his large, dirt smudged hand. I take one of the bread rolls, the surface a little lumpy where a turkey cube or other meat is pushing against it but like the other, he takes no notice. I hand over the last two slices of cheese and he leaves without a word. He didn't look at me the entire time, none of them did, and I was glad.

The unease ebbs away as the man retreats. I wondered if I'd always be like that around men. I hadn't been with Eddie but Eddie hadn't been a man… but he would have been.

I push the thought away and look around at the others. Most had sat down in the shade just outside the kitchen, it was late afternoon and the only things left to do after they'd ate would be to water the grounds and tidy away the tools.

Ever since the first had taken her food away I'd waited for them to raise the alarm or for Mary to come out after me holding the half empty jar that I'd hidden behind the rest. But no one had. They all sat eating in silence but I noticed that some sucked at their lips or looked at the bread with an odd expression.

"Enjoying slaving over the stoves?" I hadn't realized I'd been smiling until I felt it drop from my face. The Guardian from this morning was leaning against the wall and he was smiling at me. It reminded me of how my face felt before I washed it. With my eyes on the ground I turn to go back inside. "Oh c'mon, I'm kidding."

I nod but don't stop.

"Wait." He says and it sounds like an order. "You look different." I freeze. I feel his eyes on my face and the urge to turn away or cover it courses through me. When he speaks his voice is quieter. "What's your name girl?"

_Don't draw attention.  
Don't draw attention._

My hands begin to shake and I curl them into fists. I hear the crunch of his boots coming closer.

"I'll tell you what." He proposes as I stare at the concrete step beneath me. Out of the corner of my eye I realise he's come far too close. "I will give you this if you tell me."

I know he's waiting for me to look at him and I drag my eyes upward. He's holding out a cookie. My stomach drops and my mind propels back to another time, a different Guardian taunting a little boy with a chocolate muffin. This Guardian looks more than pleased by my reaction, he thinks I want what he's offering, he thinks I don't know the cost.

"I don't want it." I say quietly and run through the back door.

I reach the counter in the middle of the room, expecting the Guardian to have followed me but he hasn't. I let out the breath I'd been holding.

"Have you eaten yet?" Mary asks from a chair in the corner.

I shake my head and turn to her and Serena. "I need to go check on my…on Janine."

"Meredith already did. She said she's okay. Drank some water, ate some berries." Mary says tiredly.

"I should-"

"Eat." Serena says, not looking up from her plate.

"She's right. Sit."

I shift from one foot to the other, wanting to run out the back door and back to the barn. My mother would come to me, I know she would. But I also knew what she'd tell me to do.

And the Guardian was out there.

_Stay out of trouble. Follow the rules. Don't draw attention. _

I hadn't managed to do any of those things.

My stomach growls angrily, making Serena look up. I look away and Mary comes toward me with a small plate, chicken, a slice of bread and blackberries. I take it and I'm about to say I'll go check on my mother anyway when Mary speaks.

"I've started warming the scones and I'll put the eggs on in another minute. Rosemarie can clean the dining room-" I'm so startled to hear her say my name I grab the edge of the counter and she looks at me irritated. "Will you eat that before you collapse to? God that's all we need. She can clean with Meredith while we prepare the dinner so it's ready for you and her to take out and-"

"I'm not serving." Serena says her voice hard. Mary had been talking in weary voice but now she straightens up, fixing the other women with a cold stare. I swallow a blackberry and my stomach spasms around it. I wince.

"What do you mean you're not? You have to."

"No. I don't." Serena snarls and I worry both of them will start fighting. "I helped you out this morning but I am not serving dinner. It's not my job. I won't do it. I won't."

That's when I heard it, the scared desperation under the ferocity of her tone.

"Well nobody else can!" Mary's voice was too loud and it made me hunch down, looking worriedly at the back door. She seemed to realise too and cleared her throat. "Meredith will be too slow on her own and I can't leave things here."

"It was Janine's job so it's _her_ problem." On the word 'her' she turned to me as did Mary. The piece of bread I'd been swallowing gets stuck and I cough. "I'll show her what to do. She'll do it."

"I can't -" my voice is a broken whine.

"Well you'll have to." Snaps Mary and I flinch. "It isn't Serena's job and if your mother wasn't running around after you all the time this wouldn't have happened."

All the air goes out of me. Was that true? I tried so hard to stay out of the way. To do what she told me but no matter what I did she always looked at me like I disappointed her. That's when I realize, it wasn't what I did, it's what I was. I was her responsibility and she loved me, which made it harder. She was always worried. Always.

"Hurry up and eat that." Serena says and I look up feeling outside of myself. "I have a lot to show you."

/

I'd eaten though I'd tasted nothing and then listened to Serena for hours on how to serve to the left and clear from the right and how to be aware of when someone's glass is empty enough to refill it and to never let it be empty, especially the Mistress's. I knew what way cutlery was put on a plate to show that they are done and to wait five minutes between each course, ten for dessert. That Master Ozera expected whiskey, and a cigar, instead of wine with dessert.

I felt dizzy when I learned there are four courses. Four. So much food.

I'd listened and learned all of this as Mary prepared breakfasts for Meredith to take upstairs and more meals to be sent out to Guardians on the grounds. The sun had long since set. Plates sat warming on the stove and the smell of marinating meats and soups and chocolate filled the house. I don't know how my mother did this without going out of her mind. Serena had left to go back to the barn at sunset, when they usually herded us in. Being in the house this late was strange and felt wrong.

"I'll serve Mater and Mistress Ozera." Meredith says quietly and I lift my head from where it had been in my hands. She wasn't looking at me but folding napkins and tucking cutlery into them like they were pockets. "You serve the young master. He will be less likely to notice if you screw up."

"Thank you." I breathe.

She shrugs and still doesn't look at me.

"You've cleaned your hands?" Mary asks, even though her voice is quiet it has all sharpness as if she shouted. She walks over to the backdoor and opens it to the dark.

"Yes."

"Good. Now come here, I have to spray you with this." I get off my stool and come toward her as she holds up a canned spray, shaped like the polish from this morning. This morning seemed a very long time ago. "We can't do anything about your clothes and you can't bathe, there isn't time so…" she breaks off, pushes me out onto the step and begins spraying the air around me. It smells of flowers and tickles my nose. She takes a small bottle out of her apron that's filled with yellow liquid. "Vanilla flavouring but it should work." She tips a small amount onto my fingers and tells me to put it just under and behind my ears.

I've only shut the back door behind me when the one to the house opens and we all freeze. A Guardian, not the same from this morning, fills the doorway. "Young Mr. Ozera is home. They expect dinner in twenty minutes." He leaves.

I am able to breathe again. I look to Meredith and Mary who have begun moving around wordlessly, like locked into a dance they know wellv. They both seem as nervous as I do and I feel I may be sick. It seems like seconds and suddenly Mary is holding out a small square plate to me, laden with leaves and white cheese.

"Go." She hisses.

Meredith is already in the doorway, waiting and her eyes are pleading with me to not mess this up because if I do… if I do…

_Eddie_.

I won't. I can do this.

I set my shoulders and rush up after her. She spares me one last glance and moves out into the hall which is now softly lit. I can hear murmured conversation up ahead and I know it's them, sitting at that table, waiting for us to deliver four courses. I reach inside myself desperately seeking the numbness. I needed it more than ever as my hand become clammy against the plate. I keep my eyes on Meredith's back. We reach the opened space, the staircase beside us, two Guardians lining the wall and then we turn left.

The nothingness rushes over me. Maybe my brain shut off when I felt too much emotion, maybe it was all self-delusion but whatever it was I was glad. If it didn't happen then I would have dropped the plate because the moment we came into the room whatever had been making the mistress laugh ceased to be funny.

I feel her eyes on me. Burning. I pass Mr Ozera at the head of the table, her as she sat on the other side in the middle and when I reach the other end I serve the plate, to his left, to young Mr. Ozera.

"Thank you." He murmurs and it was all I could do to not jump out of my skin.

Two more Guardians held the wall behind him.

I join Meredith in the corner, out of the immediate light that bathed the table and its guests, beside the wooden trolley that held the wine.

I let out the breath I'd been holding.

"Well that's new." Mistress Ozera's voice is loud and harsh. The loudest I'd heard anyone speak in hours.

"This looks delicious." Master Ozera says, ignoring his wife. "Some proper food for you, Christian. I can only imagine it was junk food all summer."

"Aunt Tasha cooked sometimes." Young Mr Ozera replied. I could see his side profile from the shadows. He had dark hair like his father, just liked I remembered, and he'd grown. Even sitting down I could tell he was tall but then so Moroi were, just as they were slender.

_Four courses._

"Good Lord, Tasha cooking." Mistress Ozera says sounding amused. The the ice no longer sharp in her voice but it was still there.

"More than you could Mom."

My body locks up upon hearing the way he speaks to her and even more so to hear her answering laughter.

"He is right Moira. I remember when we first started dating and somehow the lettuce was burnt."

"I was never meant to be a domestic goddess."

I realise the young master has put his cutlery down the same moment Meredith moves from my side. My heart lurches as I step out of the shadows and _clear from the right. _ I can feel eyes on my again, especially hers, burning, always burning. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as it takes all my self-control to walk behind Meredith and not run past her. When we reach the hall her pace pick up and soon we're in the kitchen.

I heave in breaths like I've been running.

"You're doing fine." Meredith sounds jittery as she places bread rolls onto the plates that already hold a bowl of soup.

"Go." Mary says and we do. I'm more aware of the food in my hand this time. The hot liquid looks back up at me threateningly and every step is a strain and small triumph. It could be so easy to slip in our slips, with no grip on the floor…

And then I've set it down in front of him and am in the safety of the corner. My heart is hammering in my chest. Meredith comes back and I almost follow her in a panic when she leaves again. Then I see the bottle in her hands and she is refilling the Mistress's glass. Young Mr. Ozera had hardly touched his.

Deep breaths.

"So Tasha is still hell bent on this, idealistic notion of hers is she?" The mistress says. Meredith comes back to my side.

"It is a good idea." Christian

"It is but as your mother says, idealistic. Things are getting worse Christian. I don't know how much you heard over the summer but-"

"I heard a lot. Tasha doesn't hide things from me."

"Nor do we! We are just more selective about what information needs to burden a young boy."

"I'm seventeen mom, not a child."

"We know that." Mr Ozera soothes.

"And if the Szelsky's had used their magic to defend themselves then they wouldn't be dead. Their line wouldn't have ended."

Meredith leaves again to refill the Mistress's glass. From over her shoulder I can see she has hardly touched her soup. Worry and anger putter in my stomach.

"Maybe so." The mistress says, already lifting her newly filled glass to her lips. I feel secure enough to steal looks at her seeing I am in shadow and she has her back to me. Her hair was dark but not black like her sons, more brown like bark. She was also slender and pale like the other two. The finger's on her right hand glittered, one with a blood red stone and a clear cut gem on another that sparkled. "But as it is, they are dead."

"Tasha thinks the Strigoi are operating under one leader and it is not random pack attacks. She thinks-"

"I want to hear no more of what Tasha thinks, Christian." Mrs Ozera snaps, waving her jewelled hand at him. He glares at her and that's when I notice his eye, blue like clear sky at noon. A small part of me is glad someone can look at her like that.

Meredith is already at the mistress's side before I realise and rush forward. I lift his plate too fast and the bowl slides an inch on the plate's surface, my heart spasms. No one comments but I know they all seen and my cheeks begin to heat. Meredith's already in the hall as I get to the edge of the room.

"_Why_ is that girl in my home?" I hear the Mistress bite out and I do run the last length of the hall.

Mary stops what she's doing and looks at me. "What happened? You've gone pale."

"I can't." I try to explain shaking my head.

Her concern disappears. "You don't have a choice."

"You're doing well." Meredith says without looking at me as she removes a tray from the oven. I recognise steak. I look at bowls we've just returned and not one of them is empty.

"They don't, they didn't even finish, how can they just-" I sputter and the fire is seeping through my limbs again.

Mary returns my look and snatches up a bottle that's beside the stove. "Take a drink of this."

"What-"

"Wine. It will help. " She says simply and when Meredith looks up she continues. "It's what's left from making the sauce. It's fine."

I look down at the bottle and without thinking lift it to my lips. The liquid has smoothness to it, a sweetness that gives way to a bite as I swallow. Mary snatches the bottle from my grip as my head reels trying to process the taste in my mouth. The fire in my chest is fading. I pick up the last plate and follow Meredith who's waiting for me in the doorway. When we reach the dining room a strange tingling has spread through my body.

I feel calmer. Not calm but like my body is out of danger from shaking.

"You don't have to return to the Academy." Mr Ozera says as I set the plate down in front of his son.

"I know but I want to. It is my final year."

"It's not completely safe there."

"It not safe anywhere mom but I'm betting the safest place is the Academy with its wards and dozens of Guardians."

"We have wards and Guardian's here." The mistress replies and it's strange, it sounds as if she's begging.

Christian lowers the forkful of food from his mouth. "What… what's going on? Why don't you want me to go back?"

Meredith refills both the Master and the Mistresses glasses.

"It's not that we don't want you to back." Mr Ozera says and takes a sip of wine. "But as your mother says, it's just as safe here. Also… there are other ways to ensure protection."

I don't know what it is but I can feel a tension in the air. Maybe from the set of the Master's shoulders or how the Mistress has drained her glass again.

"Like what?" Christian asks whilst chewing. "Letting Tasha teach us how to use fire to defend ourselves?"

The mistress makes a noise as if she's choked and sneezed at the same time. She takes a gulp of her newly filled glass and then says. "No, not like that."

There's a brief pause in which the young master looks between his parent, his expression confused and little guarded.

"There are ways to bargain with the strigoi." Master Ozera says.

/

Well I don't know about you but this was not how I thought this chapter was going to go. It was far longer than I planned it to be, with only getting to the Ozera's at the end and I did deliberate on whether I should just keep going. But I decided to bite this part off and give it to as a chapter which means the next one is already half way done.

Chapter three is where I've wanted to get to! So I hope you guys stick around for it.

Any questions feel free to message me or leave it in a review. Thanks for reading! x


	3. Chapter 3

The room is still and I'm very careful drawing breath. The guardians are like statues against the wall, looking as if they see and hear both everything and nothing at all.

_Strigoi. _

I'd heard the word before but I wasn't sure where. It wasn't in any of my two books, I was sure. My dictionary didn't have it or its meaning. I knew it was to do with the Guardians, it was a word they exchanged and it rolled together with the 'wards'.

Finally the young master leans back in his chair. He looks between his parents and I get the idea that he's hiding something. "There is no bargaining with Strigoi. You can't even get close enough to propose bargaining because they'll snap your neck and drain you of your blood."

The plainness of how he spoke mixed with the violent words made the wine in my blood go cold. Meredith is stiff beside me. I don't know what a strigoi is but by the feeling of the room I know it isn't good. I also knew that a broken neck wasn't good either. I drop my gaze to the floor, wishing I could stop listening now, that I had followed the rules and never started.

"Things are changing." Mr Ozera replies. "They are not as savage and unorganised as we're lead to believe."

"But they do prey on any living person with a few pints of blood in their system?"

Mrs Ozera sets down her empty glass with a loud clink. "Wine!"

Meredith scurries over.

"What is…what's going on?"

"We're just discussing possible options for allies Christian. We have to think of our family, we have to protect ourselves."

"Guardians-"

"Guardian numbers are dwindling." Mr Ozera says flatly. I peek up from the floor to the black geared men at the wall, there were only two and yet their presence felt larger. "We cannot ask for more, they've been stretched too thin already. And with the other Royals unable to come to any decisions about what kind of government they want to live under we are all taking what we can for ourselves, while we can."

"Something is going to happen." Mrs Ozera says. Her voice is quiet and lulls in a strange way. Like my mothers had been before she collapsed. "And we need to be prepared for when it does. We need to be on the winning side."

"Winning side?" Christian repeats bewildered. "What sides? Shouldn't we be trying to reach out to the other Royals? Maybe presenting Tasha's idea, I know it's controversial but there were times we learnt to protect ourselves."

"And you think what Christian? We will all unite under Tasha's naïve dream? One family cannot even agree on it, twelve families will not."

"Eleven." He says softly and reaches for his wine glass.

"I will not have my son fighting for his life. I will not have it." Mistress Ozera says. Meredith refills her glass.

"No you will just sacrifice as many Dhampirs as you can."

"That's what they are there for."

"How can you sound so glib about it? They are people, they have lives. They're not robots and no matter how much you try to tell yourself mother, they are not _your_ slaves."

"Christian." Master Ozera's voice is sharp and I ridiculously feel a pang of worry toward his son. He, however, doesn't seem worried under the master's glare. He looks livid.

"You have spent too much time with your aunt I fear." Mistress Ozera says quietly.

"Yes, it's refreshing to be around someone with morals."

"Enough!" Mr Ozera thunders. I feel as if I will never be able to move again. My bones are lead, my entire body locked into place. "Apologise to your mother."

The young master bows his head and his jaw clenches. Shock runs through me and I feel as if I'm gazing at something familiar. But then he looks up at Mistress Ozera with something in his eyes that I never had and the moment is gone. I drop my eyes back to the floor. "I'm sorry."

"It's perfectly alright." Mrs Ozera replies calmly. "Perhaps this was not the right time to have this conversation but we are rather pressed. I just thought you would old enough to understand or at the very least hear us out, even if you didn't like what you heard."

Something in her voice needles me and I glance up to see the young masters hand clench in his lap. He takes a drink from his glass. "I am rather tired from travelling. Forgive me."

Master Ozera sighs. "No need, it is a touchy subject, we know. Strigoi are to be feared yes and it would be unwise to underestimate them. Perhaps we're not explaining very well…"

"What is it exactly you are trying to explain father?" The young master says, as if he is treading over fragile ground.

"We have a guest arriving tomorrow, they will be able to clarify everything and answer all your questions. Let us just enjoy the rest of our meal shall we?"

"Sounds good to me." The young master drains the rest of his glass and my chest constricts. Meredith is already pressing the bottle into my hands and I start forward.

I keep my eyes on the glass and the red liquid that pour from the bottles mouth.

"Spending time with your Aunt may have given you a self-righteous outlook on your summer but that's over now." Mrs Ozera speaks smoothly with all the warmth of the cooler. "But you can't try and shame us for our lifestyle choices, especially as you benefit from such homely pleasures."

The young master springs up from his chair, knocking the bottle from my grip and a small scream escapes me.

"You stupid girl!" Mrs Ozera hisses.

"Sit down Christian." Master Ozera snaps.

"I'm sor – I'm so sorry- I…"

Meredith is already beside me mopping the wooden table top and I retrieve the bottle with numb fingers. Out of the corner of my eye the young masters hand move upward and instinctively I flinch back.

The contact doesn't come and I look up before I can think better of it. The young master's hand is paused in the air but not at an angle that threatens me. His blue eyes look at me as if he's been the one that has been punished.

Meredith pushes the soiled napkins she's used into my hands and jabs my side with her fingers, telling me to leave. I bolt out of the room with a strange rushing in my ears. I reach the kitchen and fall down the two steps. I vaguely hear Mary exclaim something and rush to pull me up. A small slap to my face brings the room back into focus.

"What happened?" Marys asks in a strained voice.

"I spilt the wine."

"Oh God." Her round eyes dart past me and I turn as Meredith rushes down the steps.

"Bottle of red." She says. Mary runs to a cupboard and pulls it open.

"I'm so sorry."

Meredith holds up a hand to me and I shrink back. She takes the bottle from Mary and has left before I can blink.

Voices suddenly rise up, angry voices. I look at Mary terrified and she stares back blankly, fear stationary in her eyes. I can't make out what is being said, no shouted, but it's raw and scolding. My back hits the centre counter. Just as suddenly as the voices flared up they disappear. The only noise was our breathing.

We both jump as Meredith appears in the doorway balancing all three plates. She looks pale. Mary rushes forward to help her.

"Do they want the next course?"

"No, just the whiskey."

Mary retrieves a bottle half filled with amber liquid and gives it to her.

After Meredith leaves Mary says. "Let's just pray that your mothers well tomorrow."

Selfishly I can't help but hope the same thing.

/

I place the last plate on top of the others. The dish towel in my hand damp and I idly wonder if I should get another but I can't seem to muster up the energy too. My eyes felt like there were bruises behind them and my body was weighed down in a way made me think of my shoes. Battered and nearly useless. I hear Mary draining out another sink full of dirty water.

"One more should do it." Her voice sounding how I felt.

I'm leaning against the counter next to her, staring at the opposite wall and imagining peeling off my shirt and baggy slacks and putting on the oversized shirt, then just falling down onto my bedroll. I'll probably be asleep before I hit it. I'll probably not bother changing. The only thing that was giving me energy to stay awake was the thought of my mother and that I had to make sure she was alright before I slept.

I hear Mary start scrubbing and I almost wished Meredith were still here to help but she'd left nearly an hour ago, after taking dishes along with the desserts to the Guardian quarters.

I was almost too tired to be resentful over Serena's cake and chocolate custard disappearing out the door. Almost.

Silently Mary passes me the oven dish and I start mopping the slick surface, not even looking away from the wall to make sure I was doing it right. I wonder what tomorrow will be like, if my mother would be well enough. A part of me wanted her to rest, to gather her strength because if I was this tired after one day then how did she cope with it all the time? On top of it she worried about me, she checked on me and when I was younger and less manageable it must have been terrible. A bigger, uglier part of me wants her to be well enough so I didn't have to do this again. Not at least, for a very long time.

Shame settles in my stomach and I wish I could lie down on the floor.

I put the dish next to the plates and as I turn back to take another soppy dish from Mary something draws my eyes to the door.

I go still, the dish held in the air to my left forgotten.

Mary makes an impatient sound at the same time he says. "Sorry to intrude." She jumps and from the corner of my eye I see her bow her head. I quickly do the same, mentally slapping myself for staring but I couldn't help it. The look he wore was tight and despite his height he looked drawn into himself…like we all tried to be. But that was stupid.

"Is there something we can get you Young Master Mr Ozera?" Mary asks.

"No, nothing at all." He says quickly. I hear his footfalls on the steps, louder than any noise we'd make or the Guardians would. "I just wanted to… well I just wanted to compliment the chef. Dinner was great."

I hear her breathe in and out. "My pleasure sir."

It's quiet and I begin counting the white veined parts of the dark tiled floor, wishing he would leave.

"Can I, would you like some help?"

I peek up to see Mary's looking at him puzzled. He was even taller than I thought. His blue eyes look between us and then he gestures to the sink.

"Oh no! We can manage sir."

"Are you sure-" he say says coming forward and I step back, hitting the cupboard behind me with a thump. He stops and looks at me like he had in the dining room. I drop my eyes and watch his feet take a step back. "I would never… you don't have to be afraid of me."

Anger flares up in my body, making my eyes sharper and I forget about the fear and glare up at him. I bite down on my lip.

Mary is making noises as if she's trying to speak but her tongues been cut out.

"I didn't mean to frighten you." He says and for a moment I think I can see past what I'm afraid of and just see a boy. A boy with messy black hair and cautious blue eyes, who was trying to muster up the courage admit to something terrible he'd done.

The moment is interrupted by a gurgling noise.

_I hate my body, I hate my body, I hate my body. _

"Are you hungry?" he asks and I shake my head, the noise had to be just my insides twisting. "Yes you are. I'll make you something, I 'm not that good but I can make-"

"No I-" He was talking very fast and I was starting to feel as I were running down hill and unable to stop, even though a sheer drop waited or me at the bottom.

"Toast or Oatmeal or a sandwich." He continues looking around the kitchen as if these things will just appear. "Or you could make whatever you wanted-" he steps toward the pantry.

"No sir please." I say starting to panic, the drop was getting closer.

"We've already eaten sir." Mary jumps in holding up her hands.

"It's not a problem. It's okay." He starts moving toward the pantry and the panic propels me forward so I've taken the sleeve of his white shirt in my fingertips.

"Please don't!"

He is so much taller than I am, I just reach his shoulder. He looks just as surprised as I am for me to be touching him and immediately I drop my hand. I expect his face to contort into a mask of anger and disgust. I should drop my eyes but I couldn't look away from the drop as my toes cling to the edge of cliff.

His dark brows furrow. "What age are you?"

What did that matter?

"Christian."

I spring away from him as he twists round. The edge of the centred island bites into my ribs but I hardly feel the pain. Mistress Ozera stands on top of the steps. Her face looking like it could be carved from marble. Her eyes are angry slits in her hard face and they are watching her son.

"I was just-" He begins but she cuts him off.

"Go see your father in the living room. He wants to speak to you." When he doesn't move immediately her eyes narrow further. "Now!"

I feel Mary's flinch as well as my own.

He moves past her, pressing himself against the door as if he couldn't bear touching her. Her icy gaze moves to Mary, whose face that was just a shade lighter than her grey hair. "Take them another bottle of wine."

I hear a cupboard door open and close. Feet scurrying across the tiles and disappear.

I stare down at the tiles, searching inside for the numbness, begging for it as my hands tremble at my sides.

"Ever since you stepped into my dining room, looking like the grubby little rat that you are, I have been _trying_ to comprehend to what right you think you have to being inside my home. " Her voice is soft, punctuated by the sound of each of her heels clicking on the steps. My heart is banging in my chest, a chaotic rhythm and that is screaming at me to run. The clicking gets closer and when the point of her shoes reaches my gaze my whole vision begins to shake. "Do you think my tolerance of you is omnipotent? That you could just walk through my home thinking I was that generous just because I tolerate you and your whore of a mother? Do you?"

My tongue is dead in my mouth. I shake my head.

"And then I find you talking to my son." The smoothness of her voice collapses into a growl. "Again I cannot fathom what gives you the right to such arrogance."

My mind was shutting down, my chest pulling into itself and enabling my ability to breathe.

"Say something!"

I'm not sure how but I drag my gaze to hers. "I'm sorry."

She stares at me and I wished I were dead. "I don't believe you."

Her hand is a blur as it strikes out and my head is yanked to the right. A scream tears out of my throat as she drags me behind her by my hair to the back door and out into the yard.

"You do not speak to my son, you don't look at my son, you vile little bitch." She snarls and releases my hair only to take me by the arm. I stumble under her grip and she wrenches my arm impatiently so I stand upright. She leans down toward me her expression twisted. "You are beneath us. You live for us. You do what we tell you to do and in return we let you live. Do I make myself clear?"

I nod and strange sound escapes my lips.

"Good." She says softly, her blue eyes shearing off my skin. "But just to be sure."

For a second nothing happens. The night is still around us as I'm locked into her gaze. Then a white hot pain ignites under her hand and blazes through my body. My legs collapse beneath me and she lets me fall. I cannot breathe, I cannot think, all that I am is agony and it fills me so I am nothing else.

When the pain recedes back enough to let me think I know that I am alone. I am gasping and shaking on the ground with gravel on my lips. I know the source of pain is coming from the arm that is not wedged beneath me. I know that she has burned me. The pain overwhelms me again and there is no thinking.

I don't know how long I lay there but I open my eyes again the sky seems lighter.

Above my head there is a small noise, a gritty sound. Someone is standing close. They begin tutting.

"Oh dear." A voice says. I open my eyes enough to see black boots in front of my face. My gaze travels up to the Guardian's face. It's the same one who asked me my name. "Having to learn the hard way are we?"

I shudder against the cool ground and he smiles. "I suggest you get back into the barn." And he walks away whistling, leaving me lying here like he had my mother.

I don't know how I did it but I got up and back to the barn. I stumble to the back and fall past the sheet, pain reels up and if I make a sound I don't hear it. I crawl to my bed roll, a darkness creeping into my body.

"Rosemarie?"

My mother's voice is a crack of relief. She's alright, she is awake, she isn't lying unaware to the world and I stop holding on and let the darkness takes me.

/

My head is a mess of images, sounds and colours.

Sunlight spreads through my vision and opens up a place. I'm in the orchard and I am small again. The trees stand huge and sturdy, the only things I can rely on not to change. Their leaves shimmer bright green above me, always welcoming, always safe.

"Rose." Eddie comes toward me with an apple cupped in his two hands. "I won it."

I reach out and take it. In my palms I watch the red darken and the fruit shrivels up with rot. Confused I look back to him for answers but he isn't there.

Wetness tickles my toes. I look down to see blood spreading through the grass.

/

"Rosemarie, lift your head for me."

"Mom?"

Her hands brush against my forehead and I peel back my eyes. The smell of wood and sweat swirl around me as my mother's face comes into focus. My heads in her lap and the hand that isn't leaning against my cheek is on the back of my neck trying to coax me up. "I need you to swallow these. Lean up."

I do what she says but as soon as I move pain flares through my right arm and I cry out.

"I know baby, I know it hurts but these will help." She pushes me up and tells me to open my mouth. Two small dry stones hit my tongue and she holds a bottle of water up to my lips. After I swallow them she lowers me back down and I'm panting.

"What were they?"

"Pain killers. Medicine, they'll help."

Memories start coming back to me, being in the kitchen, the young master, Mistress Ozera and the pain. My mind reels back. "Mom, I'm sorry. I tried, I really tired, I-"

"I know. It's okay."

I realize her hair is loose as she pushes it over one shoulder. A long wavy curtain the colour of autumn leaves, thin strands of silver streaked here and there. She has a small white box in her hands that's she's tearing open. The barn is quiet and I think everyone must be asleep. I could feel the heat pressing against the wood and I knew it was past dawn.

"What's that?"

"I need to clean your arm so it doesn't get infected." She says softly. "How do you feel?"

The pain has dulled and I could only feel heat against my arm. My head felt light. "Better."

I feel her move my arm, pushing my sleeve up and the shaking of a bottle. I don't watch her tend to my arm. I don't want to see the wound because it would make everything seem more real. The venom that had been in the Mistress's eyes had been lethal and what she'd done seemed like only a small dose of it.

Pressure is applied to my arm and I move my eyes from the dark rafters to my mom's face. She looks paler than usual and there were shadows under her eyes. "You should be resting."

"I'm okay." There was a detached air about her and I guessed it was because she was concentrating on what she was doing.

Something niggles at the edges of my mind as my eyes take in her blank eyes and downturned mouth. It could be nothing. I could be imagining it because everything seems to have gone softer around the edges. She discards a wipe and strong smell wafts past my nose reminding me of bleach and it sticks to the back of my throat.

"Does it sting?" I shake my head. There was a weird sensation in my arm, underneath the heat but it wasn't painful. "The medicine's strong. You'll only need one when you wake up."

"Where did you get medicine?" My voice floats above me and I realize my eyes have drifted shut.

"It doesn't matter."

I force my eyes open and look at her. She's unwinding a length of sheer looking bandages, different from the stiffer dressing around my chest. She tears it off and I feel her working it around my arm.

"Where did you get that?"

She doesn't respond.

The niggling drives itself to the front of my mind and I open my mouth to ask her again when she leans down closer to the dressing. The neckline of her shirt slides over the rise of her collarbone and between the sharp bone and slope of her shoulder are two puncture marks.

"Tell me you didn't." Her hands still but she doesn't look up. "Please mom."

She swallows and meets my gaze. Her eyes blank but I could see the shadow of something behind them. A different kind of pain, one you felt even after the wound had healed and become a scar. "It doesn't matter."

Hot moisture blurs my eyes. "It does matter. You did that for me. You went to him for me, you let him …"

"Hush, Rosemarie."

Her hands are on my face trying to soothe me but there is no relief. The walls and barriers are crashing down, crippled under the guilt and horror, letting everything flood in. Memories were running through my mind in an unrelenting stream.

The Master a looming shadow over us to which we woke and then I had to pretend to be asleep. Wordlessly my mother would uncurl from against me and move away to the other side of our space. When I was little I never looked but I always heard the pants and the grunting that made me never want to move again. When I was older I dared to look and wished I hadn't, wished I'd stop doing the wrong thing so I wouldn't have seen her pressed to the floor under his weight. My mother's face had been empty with no life or trace of her there at all. I watched paralysed on the ground as he sank his teeth into her neck her eyes had closed. I shut mine and turned closer to the floor wanting it all to stop.

It never stopped. He always came and we never spoke about it. Until after my last birthday when she told me in whispers we'd have to start hiding parts of me. My chest had stopped being flat and showed I had left childhood behind. As a child I had been mostly ignored by everyone as long as I didn't get in the way but now I was starting to be noticed. There would be nothing to protect me from happening to me what happened to my mother.

And now I couldn't breathe because the fear of it was everywhere and the crushing guilt knowing my mother had went to him willingly this time. She'd done it for me, to provide me medicine.

I cried until the blackness came. The last time I cried like this, like something inside me was breaking, had been a long time ago. The last time I'd cried like this it had been for Eddie, after they'd put his body in the ground.

Blackness came but peace did not.

/

My head was thick and heavy and I wanted to go crawl back to the depths of sleep. But the pain in my arm would make that impossible. I roll onto my left side and using my arm to push myself up, careful not to jostle the other too much. It was a fierce burning and it made me feel like the Mistress hand was still there, gripping me. I guess that was the point.

It's then I realise that's too bright inside the barn, the brightness of the late afternoon and not early. I'm alone. I shake my head trying to clear it and then wince as my arm protests. I look down at it, fearing I was going to see burned away and the raw pink flesh. The source of the agony is tapered up in white bandages I cannot feel the weight of, unlike the one surrounding my chest that nips at my rips. The bandages look slightly moist but I do not dare to touch it.

I notice on my mother's bedroll is a small brown bottle, sitting boldly in the centre. Carefully I get to my knees and reach for it. A white label with small writing states something I don't understand, but underneath reads _pain relief …drowsiness may occur. _

It takes me some time to get the cap off with the use of one hand but I manage it. Little white tablets spring out from the bottle that's fallen into my lap and spill onto my matt. I vaguely recall my mother saying last night about taking one and lift one to my lips, followed by lukewarm water left in my bottle. After putting the straw pills back in the bottle and wrestling the cap in I lie down, utterly spent and trying to think around the hot pain throbbing in my arm.

I'd spent so long trying to do what my mother said, to not speak to anyone unless spoken to, to not get in the way and to do my work and come inside straight after. Although it made something inside me ache I would rather do it than face whatever life I'd created or myself after last night. Because what I'd done made life now loomed up terrifying and unknown.

I must have fallen between waking and dreaming because when I soft voice woke me it was darker in the barn. Shadows were creeping up the walls as the sun went down as the night reclaimed the world.

"I brought you something to eat."

"Thank you Janine." I say numbly and sit up.

_I was not a child._

_I did not look to anyone._

_I was responsible for myself._

I feel like she wants to say something but when I raise my gaze to hers she only holds out a bread roll and a banana. I recognise the bread as being the same one served with the soup last night.

I wonder what Serena's cake tasted like.

"How do you feel?"

"Okay. I took a tablet a while ago."

"You should take another soon."

"We should save them."

"Take another."

"I will if I need it." Silence falls between us. The only noise is my chewing. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"You needed the rest."

"I could have taken another pill. I would have been fine." It comes out harder than I intended and her face pinches. But this is what needs to happen, this is what she needs me to do, what she had been telling me to do, to look after myself.

"Well." She says thickly. "There's not a lot to do now."

"What time is it?"

"The sun set an hour or two ago."

"I can help water the field."

She doesn't argue.

"I have to go back and make breakfast but there was one thing I wanted to ask you."

I swallow the last of the bread and meet her gaze. She's watching me in the way she did when she expected me to tell her what I'd done wrong. "Last night when you were…upset, you said something about a Guardian."

I return her gaze, the bread roll churning uneasily in my stomach. "Did I?"

"You said he wanted to know your name."

"I didn't tell him." I say quickly and she shuts her eyes like it's the wrong answer. "You told me not to speak to them."

"Now you've made an impression Rosemarie." She snaps and I recoil. "It's probably going to be playing on his mind."

I bite my lip and she takes a deep breath.

"Is there anything else?" she says quietly, fixing her brown eyes on me.

"It was the same one who talked to me that morning before you… and last night he saw me lying in the yard. He laughed at me." Her eyes drain of anger and despite what I'd just told myself I say. "Mom what is it? What have I done wrong?"

"He's noticed you." She whispers and her face pinches this time almost as if it may break but then she has it controlled. I have no control. I think I may through up what little I have eaten. "We'll have to do something else."

"Go longer without washing? I can –"

"They can always make you or punish you for it." She says and her eyes are absent.

I push down the chilling thought trying to take over but it's too strong. The image of my mother pressed to the ground but instead of the master it's the Guardian and under him it's me lying lifeless.

_No no no no no_

I jump as her hands slid around my face, more shocked by the contact than by the roughness of her touch. The sadness in my mother's dark eyes paralyses me. Her normally weathered face looks young and open, all the sternness and coldness gone. "It isn't normal what I've wish on you but we do not have the luxury of normalcy… when men notice something beautiful and untouched they want it. They'll want you and they'll take you. I won't be able to protect you from it."

A part of me was struck by her language, how different it became when she forgot about it and it reminded me that this place was not always her life. It was a small piece she'd brought with her to this one just like she'd brought her necklace.

"What do we do?" I say even though I know there is nothing to be done.

"We can... give them reason to not want to look at you." Her thumbs stroke my cheeks and she drops her hands.

"How?"

"I'll bring a knife back tonight." She says gently. "We'll give you a scar to hide behind."

/

My mother left me, caressing my cheek one last time, to go back to the kitchen. I ate my banana dazedly and then I got up and walked out into the night. I had never thought much about my face and I could never remember having properly seen it, just some side glances in metal surfaces that gave bizarre reflections.

I knew my hair was dark, like a deep wooden colour because it was long enough to take in my hands and see. I knew my eyes were brown because my mother told me but I didn't know what kind of brown. Were they a lighter colour like hers? The colour Eddie's had been? I didn't know.

It really didn't matter. I would have just liked to have seen it before it changed.

The moon was full tonight, a bright white orb hung in the sky. It looked lovely and lonely. I wondered did it feel alone or did it look down on the rest of and feel lucky to be so far away. I would.

A yellowish light interrupts my gazing and I realize I've wondered under the view of the kitchen window. I look at the gravel trying to see if there were any signs of where I'd fallen, what Mistress Ozera had done but there were none. The only mark was the one I carried. I started walking backwards away from the light and into the inky blue night. I should go into the fields and help them water the soil or check for any forgotten tools but instead I found myself under the only tree in the yard. I can see the side of the large house from here and I watch a black shape emerge and cross with another, guardian's.

And then they start appearing everywhere, melting out of the dark. They come out of the field, hurrying the others and shouting for them to hurry up.

"Get back to the barn." A voice barks and I jump, my back hitting the tree. A guardian standing by the gate that led to the orchards is staring right at me as others scurry past him. I do as he says and as I'm passing the kitchen Mary comes out of it followed by a Guardian who stands in the doorway.

"What's happening?" I ask

"I don't know." She replies, looking around bewildered. We move along with the others to the Barn, everyone else looking just as confused. She doesn't say anything about last night and I don't expect her to, what would be the point.

I shuffle off to the back and when I get behind the sheet I realise my mother's not here. I duck out past it and scan the through the others who are settling down into their spaces as a guardian stands at the door. I wait for her to come through but with one shout outside and the Guardian at the door answering, the door is shut.

_Where was she?_

I run back down to Mary, dodging everyone and not looking at them. She looks up as I approach and says. "They came and got her before they told us to come back here."

"Who got her?"

"A Guardian."

"What did he want?"

Her eyes flash. "How would I know?" She turns her back to me.

I look back at the door. What could I do? I couldn't go out there. Unwillingly I trudge back to our space. I sit down on my matt and try not to think.

Not thinking was proving to be difficult so I reach under my mother's matt for the medicine. It takes time to get the cap off again and then to get it back on. After I've done that I start drawing patterns on the floor, letting my fingers drift through the dirt. I don't know how long I do that for but my minds getting hazier. I write my name and then my mothers, scoring them out afterward. It feels good to do something so obvious and forbidden and then wipe it out like it wasn't there.

A tiny commotion carries through the air and I score out what I'd been writing, just as my mother comes through the sheet.

"What-" I begin to say but she pulls me up with strength I didn't think she had and slides something into my slacks, it's cold and hard against my stomach. As she's doing this she's also talking quickly.

"They want to see you. I don't know why, someone was coming and then they got a call and now _she_ wants to see you." She pulls me past our sheet. A Guardian is standing in the middle of the barn, and it's like an invisible boundary has been drawn as the others cringe away from him.

"Quickly." He snaps.

"Do what you have to." My mother whispers.

She pushes me toward him by my shoulders

Everything was moving too fast. One second she had me by my shoulders and the next the Guardians had seized my wrist and was pulling me outside. I didn't look back. He pulls me out into the yard. I stumble behind him and regretting taking another tablet. Suddenly he stops and I collide with his back. He makes a noise of disgust and when I right myself I see he's brought me to someone.

I go perfectly still.

Mrs Ozera stands next to another Guardian who has one hand to his ear as if he's listening to something.

"There you are." She says briskly and smiles. It wasn't a nice one. "I need you to deliver a message _Rosemarie_." She comes toward me and I flinch back. She grabs my shoulder and turns me around. I try to ignore the instinct to run away, to get away from her touch. "The forests edge, right there, I need you to go in there and I need you to keep going until you meet someone. Do you understand? Just keep going forward."

"Why -"

She slaps me and I nearly fall over.

"You will do as I say, understood?" She hisses.

I nod so fast it makes me dizzy.

"Three minutes Mrs Ozera." The Guardian, that had been holding his ear, says. She glances at him and the anger melts off her face and is replaced by something that seems entirely alien on her face, apprehension.

Her head snaps back to me. "You run as fast as you can and tell them things have changed. Go!"

I stumble and then start running. It takes a moment for my mind to catch up with what I'm doing and what she'd said.

I run toward the treeline, the field's fence running along with me until it cuts off and I'm running through the gap between the forest and the field. The gap I knew the wards occupied because the Guardian's patrolled them and we were not allowed near here. The tree line nears and I expect to my body to connect with something, to feel some presence of the ward but I don't and break through the treeline.

/

I'm panting and I'm not sure how much longer I can run for. My mind feels foggy but I cling to Mistress Ozera's words. I didn't understand them. I just knew I had to keep running but toward what and to say what I didn't know.

_Plans have changed_

My lungs couldn't keep up with the work I'd been putting on them and though I didn't want to my pace slows until I'm gripping a tree and trying to breathe. Sweat trickles over my temple and my legs want to crumple beneath me.

Somewhere in the back of my mind a voice was asking who I could be meeting out here? Why wouldn't they come up the long stretch of road in front o the house like the masters guests usually did, which wasn't often. Their kind didn't like the sun and hated the heat even more. My mother said the Ozera's were different although they never came out in the day they liked the warmth of the night. She said it had something to do with their magic.

I push away from the tree and look around. It's so much darker here and so very quiet. I begin to realize just how alone I was. No Guardian's, not others, no masters… at least back there I knew what to fear. Out here my mind wanted to imagine the worst possible thing. But that was silly, what could be worse than what I'd already lived with?

I take a deep breath and plunge ahead.

Time seemed to stretch forwards and backwards and then the ground began to slope upward. I trip a lot, the forest floor getting caught in my ankles. My hands are stinging and my legs are screaming in protest as I clamber up the hill. It becomes too much and my legs buckle so I'm braced against another tree.

What if I'd gone the wrong way? The only sound was the wind rustling the leaves overhead. Maybe I'd not heard something she'd said, what if I'd forgotten? What if I couldn't get back? Panic threatens to cripple me completely.

I slide down the tree bit further and a sharp pain cuts into my stomach. I gasp and scrabble up. I pull my shirt up and between my slacks and my stomach is a knife. It's bitten into my skin leaving a thin line of pink, two beads of blood spotting it. I can only guess the knife held there because the drawstring of my trousers was pulled so tight. I slide it out.

Why had my mother given me it? Did she know I'd be out here and maybe it would help me feel better? I didn't know how to use a knife to protect myself. I'd probably end up doing more damage to my own body.

No she said she didn't know what Mistress Ozera wanted but she did know that it was her who wanted to speak to me. Maybe she thought she was going to hurt me again… but then what could I do with a knife? I could hardly attack the Mistress, not when she was surrounded by Guardians.

I look around me, only able to see two trees ahead until it became a wall of menacing black.

What do I do?

I force myself upright and try to decide whether or not to put the knife back into my slacks. The hard, cold press of it in my hand made me feel better but what would the person I was supposed to meet think about it. What if they told Mistress Ozera? She'd kill me.

But what kind of person would I be meeting out here? I take a steadying breath and lower the knife to my side, just past my hip so it wouldn't look to threatening. I take a few more steps forward and now the dark seemed to want to close in on me, like it was trying to swallow me. Shapes move in the black but I was sure it was my imagination and I tell myself to stop being a child.

The ground evens out, making me stumble and this time I fall to my knees in a hard thud. There's no energy left to push myself, my body yelling at me that it needs to rest but I can't rest, I have to –

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a familiar cold sensation marches up my back. The same feeling I got when I was being watched. I look around but the night reveals no secrets or threats but I know well enough that the worst things can be the ones you don't see coming.

I try and tell myself that this is my mind playing games with me again but the feeling doesn't shift. My fingers tighten around the knife, the only thing that's keeping me shutting down in fear.

I think I see a shape move in the shadows, a slight movement but I know it's my mind tricking me I know –

The shape gets an outline against the black, solid like a tree but not a tree, a person.

I stop breathing and my heart beats faster.

I stare at the shape and it doesn't make any more movement but it is clearly a person. It has to be whom the Mistress sent me to. It has to be, who else would be out in the forest? I try to clear my mind of the little voice telling me to run. I swallow and force myself to stand I know I should look down but I can't seem to make myself to.

I have to try twice to speak. "Mistress Ozera says that things have changed." It was the only thing I can remember to repeat from her and it sounds so petty. The shadow doesn't move or speak. I swallow and without thinking I say. "And, and I have to return to her as soon as possible."

I take a step backward and the shape moves. I freeze. They keep coming forward, seeming to glide rather than walk and my heart was beating so hard in my ears I thought I might go deaf. The black seems to slip back from as if unveiling them and she melts out of the shadows.

At first the Mistress comes to mind but they couldn't be more different. This women's skin was made of opaque moonlight, as if it had been capture and contained to a glass case. She almost glowed in the dim light. She wasn't tall like the mistress and her hair wasn't dark, it was a golden colour that made me think of the sun peeking up on the horizon. I would have thought she were what my mother and my dictionary had described as an angel if it weren't for her eyes.

They glinted scarlet.

I had to be dreaming. I'd fallen asleep after taking my medicine and now I was dreaming or slipping into a nightmare. I shook my head, daring not to take my eyes from her.

She smirks and any conviction I had to dreaming was wiped away when she spoke. I couldn't make up the sound of a voice so gentle and so terrible. "So she sent you. Tiny little thing, there hardly seems to room in you at all for a few pints."

There was something underneath her voice that sounded different to anything I'd ever heard. It made her sound clearer.

"I have to go." I whisper taking another step backward.

I didn't see her move but suddenly she was closer and I could see she wore a white dress. It was pretty and there were purple flowers on it. She tilts her head to the side watching me closely and if it weren't for her eyes I'd believe she were an angel.

"No darling, you don't." she says softly. "You see unfortunately for you, you were the messenger and I do tend to kill those. And I can see too you are rather pretty underneath all that dirt." Her lips lift slowly in what I would guess was supposed to be smile but all I could see were the pointed fangs.

She was exactly like the mistress but yet she wasn't. Her eyes were different in colour but they also were different in how they watched me, with hunger. But coldness and danger radiated from her like it did the Mistress, who I always thought could be made from marble rather than bone. It made sense that this was her guest. They were equally beautiful and infinitely terrible. I just always thought the Mistress would be the one to kill me.

Odd, how I wasn't as scared by this as I should be.

"What are you?" I whisper.

"Merciful." She says simply. Her lips curl back and she lunges at me.

There is no collision but I get the sensation of falling through air and then the forest floor is at my back and she's above me. Her hands pressed just under my shoulders. With the moonlight behind her she doesn't look real at all and I could easily pretend I were dreaming and I could wake.

"You'd be glorious awakened." She whispers. One hand sliding up to my neck and the tips of the other sliding downward over my shirt, when they reach the each of my bandages she frowns.

I'm too distracted to explain the bandages because I'm thinking about death and I it will hurt. So many times I wanted to die but now I wasn't so sure. If I had kept walking could I have found more or something better? Something like where my mother came from. I knew the world was bigger than what I'd seen but I couldn't picture it and it made me sad. I wanted to picture it. But more than anything I wanted to picture it with the one person I knew who's seen it. My mother.

My mother.

I could not die and leave her.

The terrible angel says something but I don't hear it. I feel the hard shape of something in my hand and without thinking I drive the knife into her side. It doesn't go in like I imagine it would, not like cutting into butter but something tougher. She screeches, like metal scraping metal and rolls off me. I scramble backward.

She's sprung a good distance away and is sitting in a crouch. She touches the spreading dark against the white of her dress and then her eyes flick back to me, no mercy promised this time. Her lips curl back and a growl slips between her teeth.

A black shape collides with her and sends them both rolling across the ground. The darker shape separates off with a smooth roll and comes up into a crouch. The woman is less graceful in coming to a stop, her hands dig into the earth to bring her to a stop so she looks like an animal. Her white dress is now torn and filthy with dirt and blood. Her red gaze is locked on the dark shape and without pause she spring toward it. It dodges elegantly and they begin moving around each other in a strange motion. It was like they knew which way the other would move and moved themselves to avoid them. A bizarre dance where you never touched your partner.

Paralysed I watch from the ground.

There's a silver flash between them and the women screeches, making me hunch closer to the floor. I wanted to borrow into it and hide. The dance gets faster and fiercer until the silver strikes out and makes contact, burying itself into the sheath that is her chest. She goes utterly still and I expect her to scream but her eyes go blank. The shadow yanks out the silver pole as the angel crumples to the ground.

It had all taken less than minute.

My gaze moves from her body to her killer. It towered above me and now her, dressed in black like it wore the night the way she seemed to have worn the moon. Its back is too me and I know in the back of my mind that is another person or monster pretending to be one like she had been. I know because it was hand that had driven the pole into her.

It begins to turn toward me and that's when I push myself off the ground and run downhill.

I run like I've never run before, as if I had electricity in my veins. The steep hill makes it easier, as if it were pushing me. I know the thing is chasing me even though I can't hear it. I feel the ghost of its fingers reaching out to me and sharply I turn right. It was harder for Eddie to catch me when I ran between the trees in the orchard, never in a straight line. I do that now. I tear through the undergrowth, twigs snapping and my breathing breaking up the quiet. I cannot hear the thing chasing and I begin to wonder if it stopped.

Something crashes into my right arm and I scream. Pain flares and vibrates through my bones as we hit the ground with a horrible thud. The wind goes out of my lungs and I try to crawl away but two hands clamp down under my wrists and pin them to either side of my head.

"Stop." The word carries weight for being so alone.

With my eyes close I beg that it'll be fast, that a pole driving into my chest through my heart won't hurt so much and that I'll die quickly.

_I'm sorry Mom, I tried._

"I am not going to hurt you."

The thing was a good liar or something in me just wanted to believe it because I began to consider looking up. The voice was not soft or gentle but it was hard and I wanted believe that it was sincerity that made it strong. But this was something that had murdered in front of my eyes, just like Eddie had been.

More pain doesn't come and I could only guess it wanted to see me scared, well I wouldn't give it the satisfaction. I force my eyes open ready to meet death in the eyes. Instead my entire being is stilled. Stilled in a way that I stop being afraid or I forget that I am, that the trees could be burning all around me and I wouldn't notice.

Above me is poised a person. Their hair hangs between us in a short curtain, so I have to look between the dark frame. I see skin a little lighter than my own, dark eyes that are steady and calm above defined cheekbones in a composed face. A man's face and one that doesn't propel me into dread but keeps me anchored in this place where terror is paused.

"What are you?" I breathe.

"My name is Dimitri Belikov and I am not going to hurt you."

/

Sooooooooooo, he could have at least bought her dinner first before he wrestled her, am I right?

Haha sorry, it's 4am and I am delirious. I am also getting up in four hours to go on holiday… just give me coffee. ANYWAY, I wanted to post this chapter before I left because I don't know when the next update will be and also, I really wanted to write Comrades entrance :D

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SUCH LOVELY, SUPPORTIVE AND ENCOURAGING REVIEWS! AND AfTER ONLY TWO CHAPTERS? AMAZING! Thank you guys so much, it makes me want to explode into glitter.

One more thing before I pass out, some asked I there are things you are not supposed to understand yet and the answer is YES. You have been dropped into Rose's world and she is not going to explain everything until there's call to, like when she has something to compare it to or she is thrown back into a memory. BUT if there's something that is unclear to you please ask away, I could hint at something and completely forget to explain later.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter guy and stick around for the next one. xo


	4. Chapter 4

Moonlight was so much prettier than daylight. Moonlight was soft, gentle and yet held hands with the secretive night that hid terrible things, like evil angels. Lying here I could see past him to the moon. She was watching us boldly from her perch far above the trees. I wondered what else hid from her light in the darkness and whether she chose to hide it.

I wished she'd hidden me.

I knew this was bad. A voice in the back of my head had begun shouting but it sounded far away. I was being pressed to the ground beneath another body but I didn't feel scared. I don't know why. Had I just accepted that I were going to die and anything before that wasn't terrible? I don't know. I just couldn't seem to think properly. My thoughts were rocking back and forth and I couldn't get a firm footing. If it weren't for him so motionless above me I'd think I was still rolling down the hill.

I look at him, expecting there to be a monster in his place or to see the silver stick, ready to be driven it into my chest. Instead his expression is stoic, his dark eyes trained on my face. A hot prickle runs over my skin as I stare back. I felt he could see through me, like I was turned inside out.

Behind his head the stars swam.

"I'm going to let you up. It would be smart not to run." He says quietly. There was something different about his voice and it brought me back to my own head. Was there a purr within his words or had I just imagined it? A crease forms between his eyebrows. "Did you hear me?"

I exhale and feel the outline of his body above me. The voice in my head isn't so far away anymore. I take a breath and nod.

A long time ago when a Guardian had taunted a boy with chocolate and the orchard leaves were turning orange, the boy had fought back. One thing I'd seen him do was aim a punch between the Guardian's thighs and it had worked…just not for long enough. There was no time to think of something else because he nodded and had started to lean back. In a crouch his hands move from my shoulders to my wrists. It's strange how aware I am of his touch but it's most likely because of what I'm about to do and how his touch could respond mercilessly to it. His fingers curl around my wrists and pull me up. I use the power behind his lift as leverage and bring my knee up. It doesn't hit its target exactly but he makes a noise like he's choked on his own breath.

His grip slackens and I tear free from him.

I make it past two trees before his arms circle around me and pin my own to my body. I kick out at him, trying to connect to the original target. I need to hurt him before he hurts me.

"Will you just stop?" He says, his voice stretches but doesn't leave the confines of calmness. It makes me even more panicked. I kick off a tree and he stumbles backwards. "If I wanted to cause you harm I would have done so already so could you save us both-"

I've wriggled an arm free and thrown my fist behind me, at the same time I'm still kicking out. Wherever I hit him was hard, like a cheek bone and with the blow and my squirming he loses his footing and sends us both to the ground. I roll away as he says a string of harsh sounding words that are completely unfamiliar. I've barely gotten onto my knees before a hand comes down between my shoulder blades and pins me to the earth.

The smell of dirt and grass fills my nose. The energy that had been coursing through my blood dulls and I try to squash the panic and think around it but it's no use. I couldn't win and all I had to protect me were baggy slacks, held tight to my hips by a frayed cord. It was no protection at all.

I'm rolled over onto my back, two hands firmly planted onto my shoulders. His chest is rising and falling and I try to decide if begging will make a difference. Would it be better if he knocked me out?

No, no I need to face it but I couldn't make myself look at him.

"Why are you fighting me?" He asks and the lack of anger in his voice is making my stomach knot. What did he want me to say? Did he want me to beg? I wouldn't beg. I wouldn't give him anything, not when he was going take from me. My fingers search the twigs and needles for a stone. I meet his gaze and try to hide everything I was feeling. I search within myself for the numbness.

He takes a deep breath. Holding my gaze he says slowly. "I am not going to hurt you."

"I don't believe you." I whisper.

"As a Guardian I am sworn protect those who need protecting."

The word Guardian makes me go still under his hands. I notice then the black clothes he wore and remember the way he'd moved gracefully and lethally. I should have known.

I should have run faster.

He'd seen me hurt her guest.

I'd fought back.

_Oh no no no no no no no._

His eyes sweep over my face and I feel myself start to shake under his grip.

"I am not a Guardian of the Ozera family." He says clearly. "I know that's from where you've came but they are not my charge. I swear it." I was having trouble breathing but I cling to his words like they could hold me steady. His fingers curl around my shoulders and pull me up into a sitting position.

He keeps one hand rested there while he leans back, giving me some room.

Now that I wasn't imprisoned between him and the ground I gain some control. I peek up at him and his expression is still the same, steady with curious eyes. He could not be a Guardian.

"You have nothing to fear from me."

"Guardian and fear aren't two separate things."

"I just saved your life." He says flatly and his gaze was unwavering. I glimpse a resemblance to the Guardians then, the confidence in his eyes that warranted no argument. "And If I wanted to hurt you I would have by now. You have given me reason to. Now you can get up and walk or I will throw you over my shoulder but either way you are coming with me."

He removes his hand from my shoulder and stands. I have to crane my head back to look at him. He holds a hand out to me and after a few moments I get up without taking it. He doesn't rebuke me. Instead he gives me one last hard look and starts down the rest of the hill.

"I would stay close, there could be more out there." He calls back and with a jolt I remember the red eyed angel. I scurry down after him and linger just a little behind.

He moves silently across the ground. Twigs snap under my feet and with each crack I expect him to rebuke me for disturbing the quiet.

I kept waiting to fall into a trap. Surely there had to be one. He was toying with me in ways that Guardians liked to toy with us.

After a while of walking I began paying attention to my body. My bones were getting heavier with each step and under the bandages my arm has begun to sting. I try to block it out and focus on him and where he was leading us.

I recognised nothing we passed, everything looked the same.

Could this be a dream?

Another branch snaps under my foot. I feel the rough touch of the undergrowth as it pushes up through a hole in my shoes. This time the wood snapping under me sounded louder and I glance up nervously to find he is watching me. He's further ahead than I realised, half of him concealed in shadow like he could sink into the night. The terror didn't rise up in me but just jittered around my heart.

"Can you walk faster? We have wasted too much time already." His voice was smooth and blank. I tried to figure out if he was angry or getting impatient but he gave nothing away but his words. Even his face was like a clean surface.

He raises an eyebrow.

I drop my eyes to the ground and walk. I should not be looking at him, it was disobedient, it was challenging, and it broke the rules. I peek up after a couple of minutes, telling myself it was necessary to make sure I was still following him because he moved soundlessly.

He was tall, much taller than any other Guardian or Moroi I'd ever seen. Walking beside him I reached just above his elbow. He held himself like a Guardian but yet at the same time he didn't. He had the presence of holding attention but he didn't force it around like the other Guardians I knew did. They walked in a way that threw hostility and power outward, daring you to challenge them whereas this Guardian had that presence contained. I'd seen move as a lethal shadow with the gracefulness of air and with unyielding skill that allowed him to kill that thing. But now he walked silently and steady, all that power contained.

That seemed even more dangerous.

How could be a Guardian? But what else could he be? The weight in my bones travels to my head.

"Usually when people stare at you they want to ask a question." His voice breaks the silence and I jump. He doesn't look back but he's paused, his head tilts to the right ever so slightly like he's listening to something. I can't hear anything.

The stinging in my arm starts to heat.

I swallow. "What was that … thing back there. That woman?"

He glances over his shoulder and I freeze. "Strigoi."

His answer washes over me in a wave of surprise.

"Didn't you already guess?" He didn't sound like he was mocking me.

"I didn't know they looked like that."

"Chalk white skin, red eyes, hostile, blood thirsty, cunning and strong. They can be past Moroi, Dhampir or human." His tone reminds me of my mother's when she told me what I had to do every morning. How important it was I listened. I feel his eyes on me as I look at his shoulder and I nod.

"This way." He says and turns to my left.

I follow, trying to store away what he's told me about these things I'd only heard of in whispers and had unknowingly sought out. "You stabbed her."

"I pierced her heart with a silver stake. The only means of killing strigoi unless you can set them on fire or behead them. You should know this."

"Well I don't." I mutter and glance nervously ahead at him.

He doesn't turn around. "I know but you should."

I wonder what he means but I don't ask and we keep walking. A cold sweat has broken out on my forehead and from time to time the trees tilt to the side. Each time I shake my head to clear my vision. My arm is burning and I pray it doesn't get any worse until I get back to my mother.

Was I going back to my mother? I try not to trip over more bracken or my own feet.

When he was speaking to me it was easier forget that my body was working against me. With a voice in my head telling me not to I ask him another question. "Who's Guardian are you?"

My voice was so quiet I think he might not have heard me. This was probably a good thing, a lucky thing.

"Prince Victor Dashkov." He replies after a moment.

Prince was something I'd heard thrown around but I didn't know what it meant to Moroi. To my dictionary it meant to be son of a ruling king but I'd never heard of a king. My mother didn't like when I asked these sorts of questions. She said it didn't matter.

"So why were you in the woods?" I ask, ignoring all my instincts that are telling me to shut up.

"I was tracking you."

I trip over my own feet and land hard on my knees. He's kneeling beside me before I can blink, one hand held in the air between us. I shy away from it and it drops. "Are you alright?"

I nod and the forest turns on its side.

"When she knocked you down did you hit your head?" It was the first time he sounded like the Guardian's I was used to.

"No." I answer. The forest seems to be slipping away but the firmness of his voice was keeping me tied to it.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

That wasn't fair. I couldn't see properly.

He snaps them in front of my face and his hand swims into focus.

"What's your name?"

I hesitate. Not because I can't remember but because unlike yesterday I don't mind saying it, or giving away the only thing I had. "Rose."

His eyes are like the colour of black coffee but they had none of the bitterness. His hand catches my eye, next to my left arm his fingers curl and uncurl like they were distracting themselves from not touching me. I try to sit up straighter.

"Does your head hurt Rose?"

"My arm hurts." I mumble. My eyes fluttering closed.

"Can I look?"

Nobody ever asked. A guardian never asked. Maybe I did hit my head. I nod trying to concentrate on breathing in and out.

_It was only pain. It was only pain._

Delicately he pulls up my sleeve and I twitch. He never directly touches my skin and I'm glad. When he's pulled it past the bandage he pauses before asking. "What happened?"

"She hates us." My voice sounds like it's about to fall asleep.

"Can you walk?" His voice is sharper than before and my eyes snap open. I try to get up but my leg gives out from under me. His hands are back on my shoulders. He was going to lose his temper, he was a Guardian and he was telling me to walk so I had to walk.

"I can, I swear." I try again and the same thing happens.

_I hate my body. I hate my body. I hate my body._

"Alright, it's alright. Just calm down."

He moves a hand from my shoulder and captures my shaking one. My mind is too jumbled to process the full weight of what he's doing but my heart stutters but then he's pressing my hand against his chest. "Do you feel my heart beat? Feel how steady it is Rose, focus on it."

There was warmth under my palm and my thoughts began to spin. I was touching someone else; my hand was on a Guardian. It was wrong and it broke rules and I couldn't-

"Look at me." Without thinking I do and my tumbling thoughts find solid ground. His eyes were steady and like the wooden floor of the library, sturdy and reliable under my feet. "Just breathe."

I tried to stop thinking outside of breathing, to stop feeding the anxiety that was eating away at me and just to focus on what he'd told me. Most of me was able to but a smaller part was caught in a storm of questions and instincts.

His eyes don't waver and the confusion threatened to overwhelm me so I shut my own.

It felt like he could see through me, it felt like his gaze dared me to try to see through him and that was insane. I concentrate on the regular thump beneath the softness of his shirt. It was like experiencing touch for the first time and I guessed it only felt like that because of how wrong it all was. You are always more aware of your voice when you tell a lie or admit the truth and of your hand when it touches something it shouldn't.

Slowly my heart stops banging in my chest and the noise in my head quietens down. All that's left is the soft rustling of leaves and gentle rise and fall of his chest under my hand.

"Better?" He asks. I open my eyes and the forest is still around me. I nod dropping my gaze back to the ground. "Can you stand?"

I do and his hands hovering close as if to catch me if I fell.

"When we get back we'll have the wound properly seen too."

I bite my lip and look up. "Dimitri." There's no big change in his features, nothing that gives him away but I get the sense he's surprised. "You said that was your name."

Every muscle in my body tenses as he looks down at me, his expression unreadable.

"It is." He says and then he turns away. "Come on."

I stand for a moment in surprise, just long enough to breathe it in and then I amble after him. I can tell he's holding back from going faster and I do my best to keep up with his slower pace but my body would not cooperate.

He doesn't say anything about it.

He was strange, this Guardian. Everything about this night was strange and half of it didn't seem real. But what shouldn't have been real I knew was, he had told me his name. Well he had told me twice but the second time gave him the opportunity to take it back, to tell me to address him as Guardian – well I couldn't remember his second name, his formal identity, the one that gave him rank.

He'd given me his name and besides my mother I'd never been given one before to keep. And what was even weirder was that I had told him mine without feeling like I was losing something. When the other Guardian, Alto, had asked for it, it was because it was another way of having power and it was the only power I held. The thought of my name leaving his lips made my skin crawl.

'Rosemarie' belonged to my mother and 'Rose' belonged to me.

I'm so distracted I nearly walk into him. I hastily step away and my thoughts become weighed down again with reality. I notice ahead that the gaps in the trees seem lighter and I realize we're back at the treeline. He'd lead us back to the house.

_I was tracking you_

"Before we go into the Manor there are some things I need you to tell me." He says quietly.

I nod at the ground.

"Look at me."

I drag my gaze upward and his expression is not unkind but still serious. "I need you to tell me the truth, I'll know if you lying so it would be easier to tell me as honestly as you can."

I hold the weight of his gaze and then I nod.

He immediately asks. "You didn't know you were going to meet strigoi tonight?"

I shake my head.

"You were told to pass along the message from your mistress that the meeting was cancelled?"

I hesitate and then nod.

"Why did you hesitate?"

My heart jumps into my throat. "She said to say that things have changed."

"Why did she send you?"

"I don't know."

"Did she give you a knife?"

"No."

"Who did?"

"My mother."

"Why?"

I look away.

"Rose, why did your mother give you a knife?"

My voice is barely above a whisper. "I think because she thought the Mistress was going to hurt me again."

My hands have begun to shake.

"Okay." He says gently. I beat down the fear clawing up my stomach. I'd told a Guardian my mother wanted me to harm her.

He speaks again, warding off the panic. "Before tonight have there been any mysterious guests in the manor, any strange behaviour?"

"I don't know. I'm always outside except for yesterday when I had to take my mother's place."

"What does your mother do? "

"Cooks and then serves their dinner in the dining room."

"And you had to do this yesterday correct?"

"Yes."

"And Christian came home yesterday?"

I try to hide my surprise that he used the young master's name. Again I nod. His eyes get even more intense and he asks quietly. "Rose, what did they talk about?"

I realize then that what he'd been asking wasn't just putting myself and my mother into jeopardy but the Mistress too. What other reasons would a Guardian need to know these things if not to be collecting facts? As long as I'd watched them that is what I'd learned they did before taking action.

I tell him what I can remember, pieces of things I didn't understand but had stuck to my memory. I recall the name of a family and of the woman, Tasha, they'd talked about. I thought I caught something flicker across his face at the mention of her but I could have imagined it. My nerves were winding tight and I was trying to remember things past the voice in my head telling me to shut up.

I tell him that they had talked about protection and not wanting the Young Master to return to the academy. About choosing the winning side, Strigoi and bargaining. I tell him about how they said a guest was coming the next day to explain to the Young Master more. Dimitri's face had seemed to harden over and it made me forget to draw breath so I finish in a gasp.

"To confirm." He begins. His voice is quiet and as tight as wire. "The conversation you overheard was between Moira, Lucas and Christian Ozera?"

It was strange to hear my master's names so bare. I nod.

"Rose, I need you to trust me."

"Why should I?" It's out of my mouth before I can think.

"I protect those who need protecting." He responds immediately, his dark eyes looking through me. "You have my protection."

"From what?"

His jaw tightens and the look in his eyes makes me want to shrink into myself.

"You're Masters."

Before that can sink in he's moving again, this time his movements are more precise and I realise he's being extra cautious as he approaches the treeline. I follow, trying to move as quietly as I would through the house. It's a lot harder when my legs are heavier than they have ever been, more so than the day I started in the field, but I manage to be only a whisper across the ground which would be impressive if it wasn't compared to his ghostlike steps.

He presses up to a tree that has the yard beyond it. I stay a few trees back wondering why he was being so careful. He was a Guardian, why was he sneaking around? What was he looking for and why did I need protecting? What –

"Rose, stay close to me." I straighten up from where I'd been sagging against a tree and take the remaining few steps over to him. He casts a sidelong look down at me. "At all times, understand?"

Not really. "Yes."

He nods. "Come on."

I briefly panic that he's going to break into a run but he starts forward in a brisk walk, striding out of the cover of the forest and its darkness. I scurry after him and have to half jog just to match him. It wasn't much of a shock now that he could catch me when I running flat out when I had to nearly run to keep up with his power walk.

As we hurry along I notice the gap between the trees and the fence is bigger than I thought. Again I wait for something to alert me to the presence of the wards. I even look around as if they'll materialize out of hiding but again nothing happens. We reach the fence that runs the perimeter of the field and that's when I realise something that makes anxiety bloom in my stomach.

I'm about to alert Dimitri when we pass a crumpled figure on the ground. I stop, unable to believe what I'm seeing.

I look up and Dimitri is standing a few feet away watching me and patiently waiting even though his body is angled toward the manor.

"He's alive." He says.

I look back down at Guardian Alto. He was on his side and there was a stream of dried blood from his mouth down to his chin. Even though is eyes were shut I waited for them to snap open and pierce me but he remained still and unaware. "How do you know?"

"Because I was the one who incapacitated him."

I savour seeing him so vulnerable and unaware, that it was I towering over him this once and not the other way around.

"Good." I say flatly and move away.

Dimitri's watching me carefully and the old fears instantly prickle my skin.

"He went down pretty hard." He says blandly and then starts walking away. "If that helps."

It did. A strange sensation passed over me and my lips quirked up.

I stop smiling as we passed another fallen body and then another. "How many did you hurt?"

"Only those who were patrolling this side."

"Why?"

"I couldn't have anyone tracking me when I was tracking you or reporting back that I was following you."

"Why?"

The ground changes from grass to the crunch of gravel and I realise he was heading toward the kitchen door.

"You'll soon find out."

He stops as he reaches the step and turns to me as I come up behind him. His height startles me again and I have to lean back to look up at him.

"How well do you know around the manor?"

Anxiety coils tighter in my stomach. "I only know the bottom floor. I don't know where everything is."

"Do you know where they most likely to gather when they have visitors?"

I nod.

"Can you lead me there?"

I nod again.

"Stay close." He orders climbing the step and opening the door before I can ask more questions. I hesitate then follow, figuring it was safer to just to what he said than not.

The lights are off in the kitchen but it's not a problem for our eyes. Seeing the kitchen asleep was like seeing a different room completely, it was so peaceful.

Dimitri takes the stairs up to the main door in two strides and looks once over his shoulder to check I'm following before pushing it open. With it being the only door obviously connected to the main house he didn't need me to direct him but once we were in the hallway he pauses and looks at me expectantly. It was a different kind of dark and quiet in here than it had been outside. I was really aware of the small distance between us. Guardian Alto lying on the ground flashes in my mind and I begin leading him down the hall. When it opens up into the foyer I glance over at the dining room. Everything slumbering and immaculate, no trace of the other night and a shiver passes down my spine. Dimitri makes an impatient noise and I quickly cross over to the other door.

We were halfway down the next hall when the floor squeaked beneath me and I froze.

I look down in horror.

"Rose?" he whispers.

I'd worn my shoes inside the house.

_Oh no no no no no no._

Fingertips lightly touch my shoulder and I flinch away. I think I see the end of something flitting across his face but I couldn't even think about it because I had to go back.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't wear shoes in here."

He looks to the ground and then back at me raising an eyebrow. My heart was hammering in my chest. I turn to go back when he seizes my forearm. Not enough to hurt but to restrain me and I let out a small yelp. He loosens his grip but doesn't let go, his mouth pressed into a hard line.

I start shaking my head not knowing if I should start saying sorry or to try to run or to-

"It's okay."

"No it's not." I say desperately, looking up at him I had to make him understand. "She'll kill me."

His expression slackens but his eyes hold steady. After a moment he says. "Remember what I told you."

I think back to what he'd said and try to hold on to it. Everything inside me was telling me to go back and I try to centre myself in the middle of the conflict. I take a breath, realizing that it doesn't really matter what I thought because I had to do what he said.

He was Guardian and I was nothing.

I nod at the floor and he drops his hand. Without looking up I start down the hall with is light steps shadowing me.

/

I lead him into the centre of the house, where the darkness is left behind to soft lights that glow. I try to believe that none of this is real. It couldn't be real and every time I started to let it sink it pressed again my chest trying to crush my ribs. My footsteps have become clumsier and I was too tired to worry as much as I should have.

We step into the illuminated south foyer and I look up at the ceiling, which was mostly made of glass. The moon was framed in the centre, a perfect and remote slivery orb. I wished more than ever that I was with her. Standing here was the closest I'd come to being peaceful in the past couple of days and I just want close my eyes and savour it. A movement out of peripheral sends any relaxing vibes running into the shadows.

I swallow. "It's just through there." I motion at the door across the room. If I had any hope about being able to leave and retreat back to the barn, to my mother who would be able to explain tonight to me, it was squashed as his hand lightly touched my back urging me forward.

I suddenly don't feel so tired. Suddenly I'm aware of every rule I've broken today. Everything I've done and wrong. What if this Guardian, Dimitri, was tricking me and it was a test? But it didn't make sense –

Raised voices bring me up short and his hand presses against my lower back, making me jump. He doesn't spare me a look but closes the remaining distance to the door with his shoulders set back. Without knocking he swings the door open and walks into the room, me rushing up behind to remain in his shadow.

"I have to say, I do like how you've kept an Estonian air of the place whilst keeping up with modern day décor." Someone was saying casually.

Dimitri doesn't stray far from the doorway, keeping away from the heart of this huge room where it occupants are gathered. Peeking out from behind his elbow I spot Master Ozera straight away, sitting in an arm chair that neighboured a crackling fire in the grand fireplace. He was sitting so close to the fire that I worried about the leather burning and wondered how he didn't find it uncomfortable. The mistress hovered on his other side and my blood turned cold at the sight of her. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face into a neat knot and it only made her face look even more severe to me. I knew she was pretty but it was all clouded by the hard set of mouth and flinty eyes.

On the leather sofa sat a man with hair as black as coal. He was leaning back with one leg crossed over the other and looking completely at ease compared to my masters. Positioned behind him was a Guardian with blonde hair that was standing straight up like he'd ran his fingers through it and it had stuck. That wasn't all that was unusual about him, what was unusual was he was wearing half a smile and showing obvious attention to his superiors. I'd always known Guardian's to stand like a part of the furniture when in the presence of their Masters but this one wasn't. I would have remembered someone like him, with his strange hair and smirk that made me think he was laughing at something. Beside him stood another man, with more composed expression and with a normal hairstyle.

They all looked up as we came in and I shrank closer to Dimitri's back. When the mistress looked across the room I was surprised her eyes were blue instead of red.

"Ah." The older man smiled. "Dimitri, there you are."

"Will you tell us what exactly you think you're doing Victor?" Mistress Ozera demands. She looks away from Dimitri to the man on the sofa. With a jolt of realisation I remember Dimitri saying his charge was Victor Dashkov.

Mr Dashkov leans forward, ignoring her completely. He eyes Dimitri expectantly. "What news?"

"Your worst suspicion was true. There was strigoi in the forest nearby and I believe it had intentions to make its way here." Dimitri speaks formally, in a way that shows respect but unlike other Guardians he didn't speak stiffly to his superior.

This was all so confusing.

"Oh dear." Mr Dashkov says simply after a moment's silence. He turns to Master and Mistress Ozera. His face has gone blank but the Mistress looks enraged. "What do you make of that Lucas, Moira?"

"Of a strigoi in the woods near a moroi household and royal one at that, well I find it concerning but its motivation clear." Mistress Ozera says back, her voice like burning ice.

"Ah well true, it doesn't take much to guess why a strigoi would be lurking close to a royal blood source." Mr Dashkov says agreeably but then his brow furrows. "But what I meant was and what concerns me is, could there be a different explanation?"

"Like what?" Master Ozera says, sitting up straighter. His eyes are hard but there's something about him that makes me think he's nervous. It was so unlikely but the tells were there, in the way his hands were curled so they wouldn't shake, that it was will that made him challenge Mr Dashkov's gaze and not pure anger. I knew these things, I lived my life trying to cover the tells. "Victor, you have arrived unannounced to our home, refusing to give us a straight answer as to why and now one of your Guardian's has burst into the room talking about your 'suspicions'. I think it's about time _you_ offer an explanation."

"And I will." Mr Dashkov says earnestly, looking almost hurt. "Let us just hear more from Dimitri first. "About the Strigoi, how did you come across it and then learn that it intended to come here? I doubt it offered you such information willingly."

Behind him his blonde Guardian's smirk deepens. Master Ozera's face is blank and Mistress Ozera is casting a glare that could melt glass. I'm grateful that Dimitri is so tall and has such presence that I've gone unnoticed.

"You'd doubt correctly." Dimitri responds flatly. "I was tracking a girl I'd seen flee into the woods. I thought it odd she was going outside the ward boundaries in the middle of the night without any protection. I followed and watched as she came into contact with the strigoi. She delivered a message from Moira Ozera that plans had changed and when she attempted to leave the strigoi naturally attacked and I intervened. It made reference to having preyed before on messengers but from the same correspondent I can't say. Upon questioning the girl I learned she'd overheard a conversation between the Ozeras yesterday night with their son in which they discouraged he return to school and that there were deals to be made with Strigoi."

Seconds drag out in which the only noise is the crackling of the fire.

"Now what plans could you have possible made with a strigoi, Moira?" Mr Dashkov asks softly.

That's when a few things click into place in my head, things that had been blurred and now come into focus. One was that Mr Dashkov was playing a game, one that Guardian's liked to play when any of us were unfortunate enough to catch their eye and they toyed with you until they won. The second was that my mother was right, Mistress Ozera had planned to hurt me again. She'd wanted the strigoi to kill me.

The storm of nerves and fear settle down in my bones. I almost reach out a hand to steady myself which would mean touching Dimitri. I take a deep breath and the flame I thought had been extinguished flickers to life.

She'd tried to kill me.

She'd sent other messengers who were most likely dead.

There was a noise somewhere between the start of a laugh and cough. "Well obviously to get our nails done." Mistress Ozera says sweetly and then her voice snaps in half. "How dare you parade yourself in here and have your Guardian try to put a vicious lie into place!"

"It was hardly a parade, there was no glitter." The blonde guardian says.

Whatever else was about to pour out of the mistress's mouth doesn't. She stares at the guardian, her mouth agape.

"Not now Spiridon." Mr Dashkov murmurs.

"There has been no respect shown!" Mistress Ozera shouts, snapping out of her stupor. "You allow your Dhampir to speak to me like that? You are less than guests in our home, the nerve of it-"

The blonde Guardian looks more amused than ever.

"Insolent half breeds that we are supposed to be gratuitous of-"

"Moira." Master Ozera's whips out and cuts her voice off

"By what inclination does my Guardian have to lie about such things?" Mr Dashkov asks.

"By what indeed." Master Ozera replies from between his teeth.

"Consorting with strigoi is unnatural and a vile violation of our way of life." Mr Dashkov declares. He shakes his head like he is greatly confused by the idea. I knew the only person in the room that was confused was me. "Why would I want to disgrace a royal name, a noble line of blood in such a way? Why would anybody?" He pauses looking from Mistress Ozera's livid face to Master Ozera's contained one. He turns back to Dimitri with a sigh. "I don't suppose the girl survived? Or you have any evidence to prove you are not the liar you are being accused of. The fact I now you're not doesn't help move things along here."

Dimitri looks over his shoulder and I clutch to the fire in my chest and step out from behind him. Out of all the things I expected, yelling, punishment, pain, the one thing I didn't was the shock on Master Ozera's face.

He turns to his wife, whose flesh looked ready to melt off her body. "You sent her?"

Mistress Ozera's nostrils flare and then she draws herself up straighter. "And like a cockroach she just won't die."

She crosses the room, passing Mr Dashkov and his Guardians. They are all staring at me and the blonde Guardian is no longer smiling.

"Are we clarifying that Dimitri is not a liar then?" Mr Dashkov asks. He drags his eyes back to Master Ozera who was looking down, his chest rising and falling.

Mistress Ozera opens large mahogany cabinet beside a heavily curtained window. There's the sound of clinking and a cork being pulled free of a bottle.

"I'll say we have." Mr Dashkov says.

The blonde guardian hasn't stopped watching me. "What age are you?"

I frown, remembering how the Young Master had asked me the same thing. Mr Dashkov looks back to us.

The blonde Guardian unfolds his arms. "Or don't you know?"

Mistress Ozera snorts, crossing back to the seated party and sitting down delicately in the other armchair. "Most likely."

"I'm seventeen."

She chokes on the sip she'd just taken and her head snaps up to look at me, like everyone else in the room is. I take a step closer to Dimitri. My answer seems to not only have angered the mistress (which I had to admit was the reason I'd spoke in the first place, the stupid part of me had taken hold and made me want to fight back. It was the part of myself I hated the most because I knew it would get me killed. But then again, she'd tried to kill me anyway) but the blonde Guardian was now looking at me as if I'd thrown up on myself.

"You should be in school." He says outraged.

Mr Dashkov is shaking his head and his voice has lost all friendliness. "What exactly have you two been doing?"

"Is this the high and mighty part of your show, Victor?" Mistress Ozera says and takes a huge drink from her glass. Her husband clasps his hands together and leans back in his chair.

"She is the same age as Natalie, as Christian, she should be training at-"

"Do not put that thing on the same level as my son. As your daughter! Do you have no honour?

"DO YOU?" Mrs Dashkov roars.

My heart beat was in my ears and it was only when a hand touched my shoulder I realised I was pressed up against Dimitri's side. I step back, putting space between us whilst angling myself behind his arm.

Mr Dashkov takes a breath that shudders with anger. "I know you keep Dhampir slaves but I never thought you kept children."

"Child or not, Dhampirs have one purpose." Mistress Ozera replies unashamedly.

"And many skills, I for one can cut out a tongue in one swipe." The blonde Guardian snarls as he leans over Mr Dashkov's chair.

I thought Mr Dashkov's outburst was surprising but this truly made me think I'd hit my head. If it weren't for Master and Mistress Ozera's mirroring expressions of astonishment I would believe I'd slipped into a nightmare.

"Spiridon." Mr Dashkov warns.

"If you can't control your Guardians perhaps you should muzzle them." Master Ozera says after a moment.

"Excessive expenditure to revoke the freedom of speech is not a something I find necessary, unlike yourselves. I consider my Guardian's input important but I imagine excessive amounts are the only way you hold your Guardians employment."

"I'm growing bored of this." Mistress Ozera declares, relining back and cradling her wine glass to her chest. "What is it you travelled all this way here for Victor? To criticize our lifestyle? Well if I do recall correctly there is no law against how I choose to govern my Dhampirs. Actually I think there is hardly any law at all." She lets out a cold laugh that sends chills down my spine. "What is it your calling yourselves now? The Collation? Bunch of fools."

"Of course you'd think less of those who are trying to restore some order to our world." Mr Dashkov replies calmly.

"Our world is falling apart." Master Ozera exclaims. "The monarchy fell near twenty years ago, the Royals have been scrabbling ever since and the strigoi have used our weakness as time to organise. Is ridiculing our lifestyle your way of trying to exercise some authority as a politician? Because I have to say victor, you have no audience."

"Have you been slapping the Zeklo and the Ivashkov family's wrists too?" Mistress Ozera smiles over the rim of her glass.

"Dhampir slavery is a shameful liberty. You take people designed to be warriors and make them slaves. People who should have choices in whether they willingly fight for you which in most cases they will be willing because it is a calling in their blood and yet you chain them up like dogs to tend to your land."

"Well, we have more than enough Guardians and I do like to have my roses in excellent condition." Mistress Ozera says with a smile.

Mr Dashkov sighs. "Dhampir slavery is not something I think I can change singlehandedly. It is not why I am here."

"Oh yes your 'suspicions'" Master Ozera says, seemingly clear of nerves now and comfortable in his oversized chair. "In which your only support would be your Guardian and a little girl who would have every reason to lie."

I am not a little girl.

"I thought we'd moved past speculation and confirmed you are consorting with the enemy?" Mr Dashkov says.

Silence stretches out in which Master Ozera and Mr Dashkov stare each other down. I glance down to see Dimitri's hand in a fist.

"You have no proof." Mistress Ozera says silkily. "And if you did what is it you'd blackmail from us? What could we possible give you?"

"Blackmail is such an ugly word." Mr Dashkov says. "But I suppose now yes, I should get straight to business."

Mistress Ozera laughs again.

"I do wonder how you plan to negotiate with us when you hold no cards." Master Ozera muses.

After a beat Mr Dashkov says. "I have an informant."

"And who would such an informant be?" Master Ozera asks.

Mr Dashkov smiles. "Why, Your sister Natasha."

The confidence falls off Master Ozera's face.

"Yes, you see Natasha contacted me a little while ago. Quite a visionary your sister, such great ideas she has but she'd grown worried about her family. Hearing whispers of secret trips to isolated areas of Romania. Her nephew asking her odd questions about things his parents had said. If I am not mistaken, Donovan was last heard of in Iasi, a city in which you visited last month Lucas."

"Natasha is a naive little girl who wants to save the world." Mistress Ozera declares, snapping forward in her chair. Master Ozera has turned grey. "She is hippie who wants to unite Moroi under ridiculous ideas of fighting alongside their Dhampirs. We have Dhampirs so we do not have to fight! Lower the Guardian age, make them breed to make up their numbers and let them do what they were created for."

"You would send a sixteen year old out to face Strigoi? A child younger than your own."

This voice grabs everybody's attention. Mistress Ozera's face conveys that Dimitri was someone she'd been completely unaware of, as if he'd appeared out of thin air. Or maybe she looked unnerved by the rage smouldering under his words. It would be a change for her I suppose to be on the receiving end of fire.

I'd been so caught up in the room that I'd been able to ignore my own body but now I could feel the cold sweat between my shoulders and even worse, I was well aware of the pain in my arm. It was melting downward into my bones.

My head swims and I shake it, bringing the room back into focus.

Mistress Ozera sets her chin and stares at Dimitri across the room. "Like I said before, child or not they have one purpose." Her eyes fall past him to me. "So I would gladly do it."

Even if the pain ate away at my basic functions, like being able to stand, I doubted I would fall because the look she gave me pierces right through my chest and holds me.

Dimitri moves to the left severing her look by concealing me behind him and air comes back into my lungs.

"So I learned earlier." Dimitri responds quietly. "And I feel I should inform you Royal blood or not, I am not tolerant of tyrants or child abusers. Threaten the girl again and I will _gladly_ break your neck."

A silence fills the room in screaming volume.

"You dare threaten me." She whispers and although I couldn't see her I curl into myself.

"I don't think you've quite gotten the point of this visit." Someone says and mockery was dripping from their voice, the blonde Guardian. "That is what we are here to do. I think you'd prefer to take the word blackmail now huh?"

"Victor." The Master's voice is a hollow question.

"Here are my terms." Mr Dashkov says flatly. "You will start attending meetings, you will come to court and you will show me support. Alexander Voda is awaiting a phone call that confirms I have managed to persuade Prince Ozera to be a part of politics again and to give him chair on the council. However if I have not been able to do this then one can only imagine it was because I arrived to their manor house to find it entertaining strigoi as their guests. Oh I'd be most shaken to have seen Moira Ozera as a Strigoi's bloodwhore and begging to be awakened. And how it almost killed me to give the order to burn the whole place to the ground, saving a strigoi corpse to take as proof and a handful of Dhampir slaves we managed to rescue. And to what if the community finds this unbelievable? I do not think your sister would hold well under questioning, not when she's bowed down by grief and the guilt of her harboured suspicions."

I lean around Dimitri's side until I see Mr Dashkov. He was leaning forward, his hands clasped between his knees and he was smiling.

"If I dare say so, I think my cards are promising."


	5. Chapter 5

_DPOV._

"**We're gonna give you a fair trial, followed by a first class hanging." – Silverado**

"South and East secured."

"And the Psi hounds?"

"Taken care of."

"Are you sure? If they set those things on us I'll kill you."

"What's going on with them is already drawing attention away from the main house leaving four Guardians, six at most."

"More manageable odds if this blows up in our faces."

I'm saved from replying to this by our boss joining the conversation.

"Which it won't." Victor intones. "They will cooperate but not without difficulty."

"Difficult is Belikov's speciality."

"I'm glad of it otherwise I'd have only you to rely on."

"Your words cut deep sir."

"Where are you now Dimitri?" Victor asks, choosing to ignore Spiridon which is always the best course of action.

"In the blueberry field, heading toward the manor."

"A Russian sneaking through the berry bushes. I wonder what the Ozera's would – we've crossed their ward boundaries, they know we're coming."

Finally, Spiridon has started to sound like he was taking this seriously.

Keeping low to the ground I hurry toward the manor. The bushes were of decent size and height which helped conceal me from exposure, as did the cover of night. The moon was full and bright which harboured a slight risk but only slight, especially as I'd already taken care of eight patrols and no others were active inside the perimeter of the field. The closest threats were in the orchard and the house.

House was not the correct word, not by my understanding anyway. The place reflected everything I'd ever heard about Mr and Mrs Ozera, extravagant, proud, pretentious and intimidating. It was hard to imagine Tasha growing up here.

I slow as I approach the fence facing the house and then drop onto my knee, keeping aligned with the bushes.

"Activity in a room at the back of the house… two guardians have stepped into the yard, Moira Ozera is with them."

I watch as one Guardian breaks away and jogs to a large outbuilding set apart around fifty meters from the house, hidden from the front drive by white oaks.

"So we know they're home." Spiridon says brightly.

The Guardian's returns pulling a smaller figure behind him. I'm too far away to make out distinctions but I know the individual is female.

"Moira is talking to –" My reports cut off as Moira's hand strikes out to hit the girl with enough force to make her stumble. The girl takes off running and it is then I realise I have moved out of my crouch. My mind propels forward and thankfully gets ahead of my own impulses. "She has sent someone out into the woods and has returned inside."

"We're pulling into the drive." Spiridon says.

"Go with your instincts Dimitri." Victor instructs and I hear the brakes of their car in the background. "They're usually right. Just don't take too long."

"Got it."

The connection clicks off and I remove the headset from my ear, tucking it into my back pocket. The girl had a head start but she didn't look graceful, her movements were erratic and she would leave enough of a trail.

The bushes to my left were too thick to slip through so I would have to jump the fence and make for the treeline. It looked clear, no movement in the windows or from what I could see in the yard. I shut my eyes and pick apart the night by its sounds because sight was not to be solely relied on. It takes couple of moment to make distinctions, the breeze between the trees, rustling leaves, my heartbeat and the press of footfalls on grass.

My eyes snap open and I creep closer to the fence.

Two. Both male. Both average height and builds but measurements told me nothing of skill. I vault the fence and neither here me land, they don't hear me until it's no longer an advantage. One is more skilled than the other, but trying to get a lock on him whilst engaging with the other makes it difficult. I land a kick to one's chest sending him back whilst catching the other's wrist; I yank him toward me and bring my elbow up into their face. One down.

The other begins to yell until the side of my hand connects with their windpipe. I take them into a headlock until they go limp. I drop their body.

The bleak tremor that I have felt each time I have incapacitated a fellow Guardian in the past hour runs through me now. I knew I was doing what was necessary and I knew that the people at my feet were not good men. I look at the outbuilding and everything in me protests when I turn away from it and run toward the forest.

/

The girls trail may as well have been lit up for me to follow. Broken branches, disturbed under growth sometimes dotted by small, worn away parts of rubber which I suspected were rom her shoes.

The terrain changes about a mile in, becoming steeper so I have to slow in order to remain silent. I veer away from the trail so I'm not coming up behind her but keep close enough to recognise the markers, that is until they stop and the mark in leaning against a tree.

The trees were closely cropped enough to give enough shelter from the moonlight but the place in which the girl was resting wasn't protected. And that's what she was, just a girl.

I'm so stunned I don't immediately remember what is I'm supposed to be doing, my job. Instead I'm registering just how thin she is, how her shirt is hugging her hips but hanging loose across her stomach and how her eyes seem too big for her face above cheekbones that are too sharp. It's unnerving and no matter how prepared I'd tried to make myself for this trip it was all vain. Nothing could prepare me for this and this was just one, how many more were kept in that outbuilding.

How many more girls younger than Viktoria?

Victor hadn't warned us of _children_.

My mind begins to slip, spiral away to a different scene, one in which my sister was subject of such abuse.

The spiralling hits solid ground and everything falls away. Tonight's objective, Victors orders, his warnings, the law or what was left of it… it was all was retreating back. What was left was what I was compelled to do and what I had to do was help this girl and others like her.

I take a step toward wondering how it was best to approach this situation. Looking at her slight frame she reminds me of a baby bird, fragile and helpless. I'm so intent upon her I almost miss the brief flash in the trees ahead. I freeze and sink back behind a trees body, holding myself to bark and becoming a part of the surroundings. I glance at the girl trying to come to a decision when it's made for me as she becomes aware she isn't alone.

She rises slowly, almost subconsciously to stand on her own, eyes trained ahead of her.

My responsibilities spring back to the front of mind, becoming the foundation in which I had to balance on.

I have a job to do.

They come first.

I tear my eyes away from her and slide the stake from my belt and wait for what's ahead.

The strigoi stops directly opposite the girl, giving a pool of moonlight between them both wide birth so they remain in the shadows. Off to the side I have an uncompromised view of both of them. The girl is staring ahead and unknowingly to her the strigoi is staring back, running its eyes over her. A shiver crawls over my skin like a skittering spider.

The strigois hair is light as is its attire, proving it felt no need to be subtle, no need to be cautious.

The girl finds courage to speak. Her voice is quiet but her nerve drives it. It was almost distracting. I take her words and burn them into my mind, evidence. That's what I was here for. Mentally I give her thanks.

She steps back as her senses have finally catch up to her but like a predator knowing it has cornered prey the thing moves into the moonlight. The girls reaction strikes me, how rapt she looks at the creature but to be fair to her this Strigoi was tame and coming across as civil.

The advantage was both were so focused on each other that neither is aware of me. I realise how lucky that is considering my impulses had dangerously nearly become actions…twice. I would not make a third error tonight.

This place really was a test my self-control and I didn't like it.

The girl whispers she needs to leave and the thing reacts by coming closer. My hand tightens on my stake. The thing coos over her and the repulsion rolls through me like thunderous clouds.

The strigoi moves faster than I could have anticipated. Its speed revealing it's much older than I thought and it's upon the girl, knocking her back and straddling her. I begin moving forward with soundless speed, everything shutting down, focus tunnelling my vision. Until the strigoi screeches like it's been set aflame. It springs backward, making me back up against a tree, instinct to have something safe at my back in a situation where I had no one to cover it.

I look from the creature to the girl trying to calculate. The girls barely got her head lifted from the ground and it looks like it's causing her a lot of effort. The creature is touching its side, a stain spreading over its clothing, a dark stain and that's when I see it, a thin silver slice on the ground.

The girl had stabbed it.

This time I am distracted so when the thing growls it is panic that propels me forward. It leaps forward, intent to kill and we collide. I manage to extract myself before its claws can gain a good grip and crush down.

I don't pause, I react and I engage.

The strigoi may be older but it was not skilled and it was not expecting me. It doesn't know how to play to its speed or its strength and does not know how to asses my weaknesses. I don't hesitate at an opening to strike, forcing the stake through its chest and making home in the creature's heart.

It crumples and it's only then I think that maybe I should have kept it alive. I run through the information I've already collected hoping it would be enough. Well it would have to be, I needed to get back and there was still the girl to deal with. She would be scared. She'd just been attacked and then seen her attacker be killed. If there was an easier way to approach this I didn't have time to think of it. I turn slowly as to not startle a wounded animal.

She takes off.

I blink. My mind stalls and then I bolt after her.

She was fast but I was faster. She starts alternating her path and it becomes easy to predict, instead of running left to come up behind her I race ahead waiting for her to veer right and she does. I slam into her with more force than I intended and she screams. The sound pierces through my head painfully and I angle away from her body before we hit the ground in a loud thud. I half expect to hear a sickening crack of a bone or for her to be knocked senseless. Instead she's already trying to get away.

I capture her wrists and pin them to the ground and the whole thing feels profoundly wrong. I feel a sudden need to explain and reassure her so doesn't blindly struggle against me.

She had to be younger than Viktoria…

"Stop."

She does.

She quits grappling and somehow this seems worse. Her chest is rising a falling rapidly and I try not to notice the dip under her ribcage or the thinness of the wrists my fingers have encircled. She's completely filthy. A neglected girl whose eyes remain closed out of fear.

"I am not going to hurt you."

Her eyes don't open and her expression alludes that she is having a nightmare. I rack my mind for something else to say, anything to reassure her but I have nothing in my arsenal. The last time I had ever felt this sort of tie to someone I needed to protect had been a very long time ago and I had been a boy.

Her eyes snap open and I'm ambushed.

There was fear but it was fear I knew, fear that came with common sense but did not render to being helpless. Her eyes held fierceness as if she were prepared to fight or face down a threat with dignity. I feel unbalanced, as if our positions have been switched.

She bewildered me.

"What are you?" she breathes.

I was a lot of things but I couldn't articulate a lot of things, there wasn't time and I suspected she wanted a concise and simple answer.

I stare back into the wild girl fierce eyes and tell her the only things I was certain of.

"My name is Dimitri Belikov and I am not going to hurt you."

/

Victor had said dealing with difficulty was my speciality and he hoped I would make tonight go as smoothly as possible. However, I had felt the impressions of abuse under my hands again and like before I had no intentions of being diplomatic.

Impulse was taking hold of my thoughts and it may be a third error, it might risk tonight's operation and it might go against morality but I was inclined to make things difficult.

I had no tolerance for tyrants or child abusers.


	6. Chapter 6

"Victor you can't be serious."

"Unfortunately I always am these days."

"But I hold no weight in politics! Some of the Royals I have not seen in years, why would they listen to me?"

"Your name holds itself in its own right. I am not asking for to do much more than nod your head when I speak, you can teach a psi hound to do as much."

A loud clinking noise makes me look away from the back of Dimitri's ribbed shirt. The mistress is back over at the cabinet and she has chosen a bigger wine glass. She's been silent ever since Mr Dashkov declared his terms, letting the Master do all the talking. She passes the blonde guardian, who could chew on his own smirk, without looking at him or his charge and hands a tumbler of amber liquid to her husband. The difference in the sizes of their glasses looks ridiculous.

"You want a puppet in your corner." Master Ozera smiles but it's without mirth. He takes a huge drink from his glass.

"Puppet, ally, I don't care for labels just cooperation. Do I have yours?"

"You have not left us much of a choice. Agree or be terrorised and disgrace my own sister. I never imagined you to be so cold, politics has changed you."

"She deserves disgrace." Mistress Ozera says and at a noise of protest she persists in her empty tone. "She has betrayed us Lucas! Her own family and she is stupid enough to believe she has done so in everyone's best interests. Not even realising she is a tool to someone else's cause. The senseless twit, I told you not to tell her anything-"

"She is my sister!"

"And I've always pitied the fact." She snaps. "Let her be disgraced and humiliated, she is the one that has to live with it. I do not care."

"And what of Christian?" Mr Dashkov asks mildly.

"You will stay away from him."

"I cannot in good conscious do that when God knows what horror you plan to bring on the boy."

"Don't make the mistake of underestimating the lengths we will go to for him" Master Ozera growls and I wish I could detach myself from the room, disappear into myself or be told to leave. The room felt like it was winding tighter until there would be a break.

"I don't, in fact I'm relying on it. Moira dear, I ought to tell you that you're pressing that distress button in vain. Your Guardians are not coming."

"And if any do they will be easily dispatched." The blonde Guardian says and Mr Dashkov gives him a side long glance that clearly demands silence. The Guardian doesn't seem to pay it attention.

"How long have you been planning this exactly?" Master Ozera demands as he pulls himself out of his chair.

Dimitri's body seems to have become even more rigid and somehow the blond guardian has moved to stand beside Mr Dashkov instead of behind.

"A day or so." Mr Dashkov says still appearing calm.

"Where are they?" Mistress Ozera demands. "What the hell have you done with them?"

"I haven't done anything to them. Lucas met me at the door and I have been with you ever since. Dimitri however has been here a lot longer than you're aware of. I think you'll find that fault lies with your own Guardians. Rather worrying considering their number isn't it?"

"Quarter of St. Vladimir's guard." The other Guardian behind Mr Dashkov speaks for the first time.

"You have killed twenty seven of our Guardians?" Mistress Ozera sounds as if she's holding herself back from screaming. I count twenty rib linings across Dimitri's back.

"Incapacitated fifteen and distracted seven to nine with your psi hounds." Dimitri corrects. "The others are unaccounted for."

"One is unconscious in a storage cupboard or so Ben tells me." The blonde guardian grins turning to his colleague, who remains impassive. "He had an eventful trip to the bathroom."

"You've rendered us defenceless!" Mistress Ozera shrieks and I jump closer to Dimitri's back, so much so that I can feel the warmth of his body and the faint smell of washing powder and something else. I sway thinking of the freshly washed sheets my mother would take off the line, warm from the sun and smelling so clean I just want to bury my face in them and sleep.

"That's rather dramatic and in light of everything I think we have actually done you a favour." Mr Dashkov's voice floats around my head and I blink my eyes open.

"You're a fool!" Mr Ozera yells. "You're clinging to the old ways by the tips of your fingers. The old ways are gone and soon everything we know will be gone too. The wise thing would be to get ahead, to place ourselves in the positions with real power. You don't know the things we do Victor, what we have learned…"

"A cause is not lost as long as there is someone willing to fight for it." Mr Dashkov says firmly. "And no matter how bad things get I will never go begging our enemies. You think they'll spare you? They will use you until you no longer useful and that includes being a blood supply. How do you possibly see this ending well for you? You think they will annihilate the rest of us and leave your family standing as the last Moroi Royals? No, because you will be a threat and a useless commodity of what they are trying to achieve, control. Control over the major cities for blood sources and then they will fight among each other until everything is in ashes. If we want a future our children can survive in we have to fight for it."

"And what will you do to us when our uses run out?" Mistress Ozera's asks over her wine glass.

Mr Dashkov looks offended. "Do to you? Why nothing. You're free to live your lives and in due course you will see that tonight was your saving grace."

"Free?" Master Ozera snarls.

The mistress shakes her head and takes another gulp.

"When you've seen sense freedom will follow. You are too isolated out here, like you said you have not spoken to some of the royal for years. Things are not as dire and hopeless as you believe, which you will learn at Court Lucas."

"And how often will these meetings be?" Master Ozera asks quietly, anger still strong in his voice.

"I will call and you will come." Mr Dashkov answers simply. "You may be gone for weeks, feel free to stay behind Moira…someone must look after your home. Unless you decide to move permanently that is."

I expected to see cracks in the glass she was clutching or for it to explode in shards.

"Now, forgive me but I simply can't take your word you'll do as I ask, I will be taking precautions. In theory what is to stop you contacting more strigoi or reporting to them the goings on at court, helping them coordinate their attacks. No, no, I can't risk it you understand. Your phones will be tapped, you will be watched and I'll be taking the witness with me."

In unison the party's heads turn toward Dimitri their eyes falling past his arm to where I hid behind him. I felt the Masters and Mistress gaze press down upon me and it was becoming too much to bear. I shrink closer to him, almost aligned with his body, more afraid of their stares than what he'd think or do about the proximity.

"Maybe there is something good to come of this then" Mistress Ozera sneers, her voice sliding under my skin like a splinter.

"She needs medical attention." Dimitri says clearly. "She has second degree burns on her upper arm."

"How unfortunate."

"Shut up Moira." Master Ozera barks.

I cannot see anyone bar Mr Dashkov and his guardians from my hiding place but I can guess that her lack of response means her expression is speaking louder.

"We will arrange for someone to meet us when they plane lands, you'll have to do your best for now." Mr Dashkov tells Dimitri in his mild voice. Dimitri looks once over his shoulder and I drop my eyes the black material clinging to his back.

"What do you mean we will be watched?" Master Ozera demands.

Mr Dashkov stands and his Guardians flank him. "I have contacts at the Guardian headquarters of this state, they have been notified that some of your employees have… well they need reassigned. Expect the head of their Guard and your new Guardians at dawn. Fifteen of yours will be sent where they are needed."

Master Ozera makes a spluttering sound. "Your reassigning… you think… who the hell do you think you are!"

"Someone with a flush." Mr Dashkov says with a gentle smile. "Sorry bad joke."

"You do not have the authority. You are bluffing." Mistress Ozera growls.

"I am not and this isn't about authority. It's about favours and who you know. You'll come to understand that at court Lucas. Now if you would be so kind to show us to your Guards control room and let Ben do what he needs to. Dimitri perhaps you should wait in the – step out of way and let me see her again."

Fear locks my bones in place as Dimitri moves aside and I am exposed.

"No, no that won't do." Mr Dashkov says softly. "She needs cleaned up and some fresh clothes."

"Empty hopes." Mistress Ozera says and the lull was back in her voice, dragging her words out and curling them in strange ways. "She doesn't understand the concept of either. Dirty rat."

"Then you'll provide them." Mr Dashkov fires back.

I glance up from the floor and see the Mistress was still reclined in her chair despite everyone else standing. At his words her glass stilled at the edge of her lips and her eyes narrowed.

"I beg your pardon?"

"A shower and some garments you won't miss. I'm sure you have plenty."

She begins laughing and it made my mind reel backwards so it was thrown off balance. My head swims and a hand takes my left arm holding me steady. Blearily I look up at Dimitri who's frowning down at me like I have done something wrong.

"Sir." Dimitri says looking away and exchanging a brief look with his boss.

Mr Dashkov turns back to the Mistress who has stopped laughing and was draining the last of her glass. Master Ozera was watching me with a troubled look on his face I immediately drop my eyes to the floor.

"Show them upstairs. That is not request." Mr Dashkov says and his voice is no longer mild.

"I will do no such thing. Take her for what she is. She is not touching any of my personal possessions!"

"Moira."

"No Lucas! I said no!"

Mr Dashkov sighs heavily.

"I'll show them up stairs." A quiet voice says from behind us.

"Christian, go back to your room." Master Ozera snaps.

I look over my shoulder and in my blurry vision I see the outline of what had to be the young master in the doorway. "I'll show you, come on."

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Mistress Ozera screams and my knees buckle under it. I fall against something warm and sturdy, a strong bind around my waist holding me to it.

"You are determined to make this more difficult." Mr Dashkov yells from above or from far away.

"I will not have it touching my things, inside my room. I won't have it! Not when I know where you sneak off to!"

"Moira you are being ridiculous!" Master Ozera yells. "Christian this does not concern you. Go back to your room. I will show them upstairs."

"I have to live with it every day. Not knowing if that half breed is your bastard and now you want to dress it up in my things!"

I blink trying to bring the room back. I had to be awake, I couldn't be unaware, anything could happen and I wouldn't know. That smell was back and it was much closer, warmth pressed up against my back and I almost choke. Dimitri was holding me to him.

I try to put my weight back onto my feet but I couldn't find them.

"I have heard everything!" Someone yells, clicking the room into focus. The young master is standing close and his face is flushed with anger.

"Things you do not understand boy!" Master Ozera roars.

Mr Dashkov had his hand folded in front of him and was murmuring to the dark haired Guardian.

"I understand enough and I'm glad they're here. I'm lucky to have one sane member in this family and I am sickened to call you my parents." The young master drags in a breath.

"Christian." The Mistress whispers.

His head snaps in our direction and he looks above my head. His blue eyes pulsing with emotions I couldn't identify. "Come on."

He marches away to the door that is turning on its side.

"Can you walk?" A soft voice at my ear makes me flinch. At least I think I flinch.

I don't even try. "No."

"Don't be afraid." And the ground disappears. The room swings an odd direction and I am floating, balanced between both his arms. The warmth and smell of washed cloth is around me. I slip into the dark.

/

There is a softness pressed against me, under me but it's cool. There's no warmth, there's no smell and I can't find my way out of the dark.

"Rose I need you to wake up." My eyes crack open and I'm met with a level gaze looking down at me. "I need you to sit up and drink this."

"Dimitri?"

He nods impassively.

I look around and it does nothing to help the confusion. I was in the biggest room I'd ever seen. Far above me glittered a huge cluster of crystals that through light out around a room that was coloured bright and darker gold. My fingertips curled against the softness beneath me and I looked down to see I was lying on a very big cushion, or so the material and shape made it look. A bed. I was on a very big bed.

There was so much of it I wasn't even near the centre and Dimitri was sitting on my other side with enough space between us.

"You passed out. I need you to drink this."

This time there was impatience laced under his tone despite its calmness.

I try to sit up.

"May I?" he asks and I glance at the hand he's offering. I swallow and nod. Quickly his hand slips under my neck and before I can think about how it felt he was pulling me up into a sitting position. In his other hand was a tall glass filled with powdery coloured liquid. He holds it to my lips.

"What is it?" I croak.

"A stimulant. It will give you strength for a bowered time."

He tilts the glass and I drink. It tasted like old water and was thicker somehow. I drink half the glass before he takes it away and puts it on a table beside the bed. He lowers me back to the softness.

The fuzziness is clearing in my head. I no longer feel like the world wants to spin and throw me around like a rag caught in the washing machine. I open my eyes and find he's watching me.

"How do you feel?"

"Better."

He nods. "You can drink the rest after you have some food and water. You're too dehydrated."

His words brush over me as I look past him, absorbing the room and all its details. It felt so wrong to be in here, to be lying here… where they slept.

I try to sit up and his hands come down on my shoulders. "You need to rest for a minute."

"I don't want to rest."

He begins to reply when I lean on my right side and pain explodes through my arm. The room disappears and I grip the thick blankets under me, trying to anchor myself as the agony washes over.

"Just stay still. I can't give you anything for the pain without there being something in your stomach."

I concentrate on breathing. One of the downsides to my mind becoming clearer is now I can acutely feel how irritated my wound is. A trickle of sweat runs over my temple. Dimitri doesn't say anything else and I don't know I this is a good or bad thing. I can't bring myself to open my eyes.

There's a shift beside me and I know he's getting up.

"Is this okay?" A new voice asks and my eyes snap open. The young master and Dimitri were standing near the door. The young Masters arms were laden with things and he glances past Dimitri to me and I close my eyes.

Dimitri murmurs something to him and after a moment I hear someone leave. This was all too bizarre, this could not be real. My mind was the one that started spinning now instead of the rooms.

"Rose." He says quietly and I tense up.

How strange to hear my name. How strange I gave him the only thing I had.

_Strange_

_Strange_

_Strange_

"Rose, wake up." I open my eyes and everything is still. Dimitri is knelt by the bedside and in the place he'd been sitting is a plate with a sandwich, a banana and yoghurt. I glance from the food to his expressionless face, the fear creeping up my back. "You need to eat something."

The thought made me feel ill. "I don't want to."

"You need to." He says forcefully, reminding me who is in charge. "It will help. Trust me."

I meet his eyes. He kept saying that, to trust him. Trust him how and with what? Trusting him would be done so blindly…

He takes a deep breath, his eye closing briefly and I knew he was fighting for control.

_Guardian. You do as they say. You always do as they say. Stay out of trouble, keep your head down. _

He exhales, opening his eyes and unscrewing the water bottle. "We don't have much time Rose. I need you to cooperate."

I nod because I have to.

"Good." He says quietly and helps me sit up again. He reaches behind me and props up the pillows. The smell of the warm washing enveloped me again and I was startled to realize it was him. Of course it was him. It wasn't just washing, he smelt slightly citrusy but more… manlier. He was so close to me.

I remember how I haven't washed for days, how oily my hair was and how my scalp felt itchy and bruised in places. I knew I smelt terrible.

He leans away and I'm relieved of the pressure around my chest. I needed to pull it together.

"Drink." He says handing me the bottle. I expect my arms to fail me but they don't, they feel slightly too light and I guessed that it was the stimulant starting to work. I take three huge gulps hoping it satisfies him but his remains expressionless. I screw the cap on and wordlessly he holds out the yoghurt. "This should be easier."

I hesitate and then take it and the spoon he's holding out. I'm too aware of his eyes as I clumsily pull off the foil lid. This was for me, just for me. I dip the metal tip of the spoon into the berry coloured cream and scoop it out. I glance up at him before putting it into my mouth. The smoothness of it slides against my tongue in a bliss of sweet raspberries. On the bed Dimitri's clenched hand relaxes.

The silence becomes more pressure I can't handle. "Where are you from?"

I hold my breath and stare down at the yoghurt.

"Russia. A very small town in Russia."

"Russia." I murmur, taking another spoonful. I liked how the 's's rolled off my tongue like a whisper.

My mother had told me she grew up in Scotland and sometimes, mostly when she was angry, her voice would slant on different words. It was like glimpsing a piece of the place she had come from, the past she didn't want to share. I wondered how far away Scotland was. I knew it was not in America, nor was Russia… I had memorized our states.

"Do you miss it?"

There was a pause in which I glance up worried.

He was looking at me oddly. "Sometimes."

I wonder what that was like, having somewhere to miss.

His brown eyes were watching me intently like I was something he was trying to read. I drop my gaze back to the yoghurt.

"Is longer hair a Russia …thing? Do many men have longer hair?" I wish I hadn't spoken. The words had tumbled out of my mouth and lashed back at me to make my cheeks flood with heat.

"No." He says and something in voice makes me look ups. He's watching me oddly again but it's not an unpleasant look.

"Uh, Dimitri."

I freeze, a spoonful hovering in the air. Dimitri turns to the Young Master in the doorway and behind him is my mother. She looks so small and ragged next to him and smaller again in this golden room.

She was also glaring at me.

Dimitri stands. "Hello, you must be Rose's mother. My name is Dimitri Belikov."

My mother looks away from me to Dimitri and again I'm struck my how small she is in comparison. Even I felt dwarfed on the bed.

The hardness doesn't leave my mother eyes and she swallows. "Yes I am."

"There is no way to put this other than simply." Dimitri says gently. "But Rose will be leaving tonight with my charge, Victor Dashkov. She needs to be washed and changed within the next twenty minutes or so."

His words don't seem real and I again I can identify with the Young Masters expression. He looks lost but that baffles me further.

"Leaving?" My mother repeats.

"Yes. She is a witness to Victor's business and for her own safety she will be leaving with us."

My mother eyes drop back to me. "I see."

"Please could you see to it Rose eats what's been provided. She will need her strength for the journey. I'll be back momentarily with a first aid kit for her burn, there is medicine on the nightstand." He says and then glances down at me. "Eat."

He strides toward them and my mother quickly moves aside, the young master turns to follow Dimitri out when he stalls. "Um, the closets over there and uh, if you need help with the taps or anything I'll be outside. Use anything you need…" He doesn't look at either of us and his cheeks are blooming in colour. He takes a breath like he'll say something else but then snaps it closed and disappears after Dimitri, closing the door over behind him.

"Mom I-"

"You heard him. Twenty minutes." She says coming over to me. Her shoulders were bent forward and I knew she hated being in here.

"What does he mean I'm leaving? Where? When do I come back?"

"You heard the same thing I did." She eyes the bed like its garbage in the heat. "Get off of there."

It's a struggle but I do and she takes my hand to steady me. The floor is soft and thick and with each step I sink into the carpet. She leads me over to the high backed armchair by the high arched window that looks out onto the orchard.

"Finish that." She says tonelessly. I look down at the forgotten yoghurt in my hand and she retrieves the rest from where Dimitri left it on the pristine white bedside table.

"You should eat some too."

"You heard the Guardian Rosemary. They expect you to have your strength."

"You should have half."

Anger flashes in her hazel eyes. "You will do what you're told."

I glare back at her. "I won't eat it if you don't. He gave me a drink for strength."

"Why can't you just do as asked? You are so stubborn."

"I can't eat it all. I'll be sick."

She makes an annoyed sound in the back of her throat and looks away. I didn't want to fight with her, not if I was leaving but I couldn't be leaving…

"Please Janine."

She shakes her head and reluctantly she takes up half the sandwich, holding it gingerly like I had when Dimitri had first handed me the yoghurt. I take another mouthful. The sandwich looked to be just plain ham and was had ragged edges where the knife had separated it. Mary couldn't have made that…

I think of the Young Master coming in with his hands laden with the food.

But he couldn't have made that. There was no way.

"Eat." She snaps and I jolt. "We don't have a lot of time."

I notice she's taken a small bite and I scoop up the rest of the yoghurt. Without a word she hand me the other half of the sandwich.

I think this may be the biggest meal we've ever shared and we ate in silenced. The texture of the bread and meat together made me close my eyes. A glob of butter melted over my tongue and mixed with the saltyness of the ham it was amazing.

Too soon it was gone.

I looked at the crumbs stuck my fingers when my mother holds out the fruit. I shake my head and ask for water before she can chide me. She'd finished her half too and like always I wished there were more. Not for me but or her. My stomach felt slightly too small for me right now.

"Is this the energy drink?" she asks, pointing at the cloudy liquid on the table. I nod and she brings it over.

I take it first and drain the rest of it. I felt more alert than I had in days and things were starting to come back to me, forcing me to make them apart of reality and not something concealed to the back of my mind.

"Janine. Is Master Ozera my father?"

Her head snaps toward me, her eyes hard and searching.

I swallow. "Is he?"

"You know that he's not." She says deadly quiet.

"The mistress thinks he is."

"I was already pregnant when I was brought here. I've told you this and I made sure it could never happen again."

The question was in my throat, squeezing, but I couldn't make it come out. I knew underneath the harshness of the outside that this upset her. I couldn't bring myself to ask her who he was or where he was.

"She tried to kill me." I say instead.

My mother's face softens slightly. She puts her hand on top of mine.

"The knife… did you want me to hurt her first?"

"Maybe. Yes. I wanted to go out fighting. I knew you'd want that. I didn't know what else to do."

"She sent me to a strigoi. I stabbed it."

The colour drains from her face and her hand tightens on mine.

"Strigoi?" she echoes.

"You never told me about them."

"I never wanted you to have need to." She says and her eyes are far away. She looks how she does when she lies motionless on the ground when the Master comes and my heart clenches.

"Dimitri killed her."

Her eyes find me again. "Dimitri?" I nod and her jaw tightens, her face hardening over again. The cold seeps through me under her gaze as I realize my mistake.

Her gaze pierces me and she says quietly, "Guardian Belikov, Rosemary."

I should just nod.

"He's different. Mr Dashkov's guardians are different."

Her fingers clench painfully on my forearm, causing the burn further up to throb. My gasp is lost under her stream of words.

"They are never different! How many times have I told you, have warned you? Do you want to end up like Eddie?"

She may as well have slapped me.

Her grave, lined face dares me to disagree but I can't. She was right, she was right and I had been so easily fooled. I'd been so stupid to think being saved from one evil by another meant something good. It didn't and now I was going to be taken away.

Now I reach for her. "Mom I can't leave. Mom I can't-"

There's a rapid knock on the door and I turn my face away as Dimitri steps into the room. I would not let them see me upset. I would never let them see me weak.

"Is everything alright?" He asks quietly, sounding like he actually cared. I need to protect myself from these tricks but I didn't know how.

The mothers hand slackens in its grip but pulls me onto my feet. "Yes Guardian Belikov. She's eaten what you've provided and now I'll see to it she's washed and ready to leave as quickly as possible."

"There was a minor hiccup downstairs. You have a little more time. I found a medical kit and I would like to asses Rose's arm, if that's okay?"

A question that wasn't really a question. Always orders, always. I had to remember.

I push my feelings off my face and turn around, nodding at the carpet.

"I can do that, don't trouble yourself." My mother says blankly but she positions herself a little more in front of me.

"It's no trouble." He says back, closer this time. I hadn't heard his footsteps at all. "Perhaps you could look in the closet for something for Rose to wear. Practical and comfortable. "

My mother leaves my side and his boots come into view. The black toes were slightly dusty but compared to my shoes they were pristine.

How angry the mistress would be that my torn up shoes were on her carpet. It did seem like a terrible misdoing, my sneakers sunk into the thick taupe carpet that I would be grateful to even sleep on.

"Sit down Rose."

I do as I'm told, keeping my eyes down and mentally apologising to the carpet.

"This may sting a little." He says.

I let him work away at removing the bandages that look too moist and ratty as they fall to the floor. I try to keep my eyes away from where his knees are embedded into the carpet, next to a green box in which is filled with little packet and bottles, plasters and bandages. I try but I fail.

I flinch as a fierce stinging flares from the burn.

"Sorry. It will help." He says.

I keep my jaw clenched but I can't help the small whimpers that sound from my throat. A cool hand touches my left one. My mother had come back to my side. She was watching whatever Dimitri doing with narrowed eyes.

"This is the best that can be done until we land, where we'll have someone properly look at it." He says.

"A doctor?" My mother asks.

"Better." He responds and she looks at him as if he were a lying. It was dangerous to look at them like that.

I feel him winding a new bandage around my arm and he fastens it. I can' help but look over at new white cloth and how he was tearing another packet open and pulling out a clear film.

"It's waterproof." He says without looking up.

My mother hand squeezes mine, a warning. I look away.

"Thank you Guardian Belikov." She says

"You're welcome." He says and I hear him close the box shut.

My mother pulls me up and leads me to a door to the right. I look up when the ground switches from the taupe to grey, shiny stone and a sharper light ignites around me. I blink. This whole room was shiny walls and surfaces, a marble counter with a dip in the centre for a sink and a mirror that stretched out to cover the wall above it. Across from me the floor rose up to be tiled steps and I moved closer to see it lead to a deep, long basin. A bath. It was a bath. It looked like a huge sink.

I'm hyper aware of the mirror to my right and it's coaxing me to look. I'd wanted to see myself hadn't I? So why didn't I want to now.

The door closing behind me makes me jump.

"Get undressed." My mother says, sliding a lock in to place.

I do as she says and watch as she crosses to the left of the room and slides a glass screen aside that had the texture of crystal ridges. My mother's form is blurred behind it. She ducks out quickly as water bursts from above.

"It's a shower." She explains as she looks at a silver rack on the wall that held a number of bottles and jars. She picks up two and her hand hesitates in the air, she plucks up another.

"It feels wrong to be in here. They're her things aren't they?"

"Yes." My mother says and then she does something rare. She smiles a little.

Steam was creeping out from behind the glass as I undo the cord on my slacks so they drop to the floor. I step out of them and look down at my chest.

"Um, mother." She's taking a folded towel out of a cupboard when she looks over. I stand awkwardly. It was worse in here under the bright lights and wide space. With one hand I motion at the bandages around my chest.

She crosses the room and begins undoing them.

"You'll have to practice yourself when you're away." She says severely. "Understand? Every morning."

I nod and she snatches the last bind away from my chest. I cross my arms over it as she explains the order of the bottles I've to use first.

"When the conditioner is in your hair wash your body with this." She holds up the jar. "When you've washed it off then wash your hair."

I nod, the steam tickling my skin with it warmth and making the rest of me cold. She put them inside the screen and then ushers me through the glass and slides it shut. The tiles under my feet are rougher and I guess it's so I don't slip. A big circular silver dish above me is gushing water and cautiously I reach out my hand. The water hits my skin like warm rain drops. I step inside the cylinder of water.

It is incredible. I have to catch my breath as the water cascades all over me like a warm carress. The water runs off my head before seeping in properly and I pull my hair tie out. I'd never bathed like this before with my whole body being attended to by the water. I almost wanted to cry it was so nice.

But I wouldn't cry.

I run my hands over my face and my hair once, loving how the length of it stuck to my back, before taking up the bottle my mother had given me. I uncapped the first she'd told me was 'shampoo' and pour it into my palm in a thick, silvery pool. It smells amazing, unlike anything I've smelt before. I slap it onto my head before it can drop off my palm. I rub it in until it becomes lather and my eyes flutter shut, scrubbing all the oil away and kneading my scalp. I do that twice like she told me to, grinning the whole time.

Until some of it got into my eyes and I splutter at the stinging sensation. But that didn't ruin it for me, even the hot throb of my arm couldn't.

The conditioner stuff was thinner and some of it escaped my palm. I throw it on to my hair and begin working it through the length, amazing when it suddenly becomes smoother, soft like wet silk. I step away from the stream of water as I unscrew the jar. I almost drop it. The smell of vanilla rises out of the jar and something that reminds me of buttercream.

I couldn't imagine the Mistress smelling like this at all. I'd remember this smell. If had smelt of this then I wouldn't be able to deposit some of it into my hand and begin working it over my body. I couldn't bring myself to use the sponges or the scrunches. Not when they used them on their bodies.

Some of the lather on my arms turns dark as I scrub off the dirt and sweat of the past couple of days. I even discover some scratches and marks from tonight, signs that it was all real. That and the band on my right arm which the water slides off due to its protective cover. I get the dirt out from under my nails and risk another glob of the body wash to do my legs and my chest.

"Rose." My mother calls shocking me back into reality. "Are you nearly done?"

"Yes." I call back and step into the stream fully.

I run my finger through my hair, letting the smooth coating wash off and enjoying the wet silk between my hands. I pull my hair forward so it's covering both my breasts. I wish it was so easy to hide them all the time or they weren't there at all. And the worst part was I didn't hate them as much as I should do and I didn't know why. I knew what they put me in danger. I knew what my mother told me about how they drew attention and lured men closer. I hated that I didn't hate them.

The glass door slides open and cold air sneaks over my skin.

"Let me feel it's all washed out."

I step toward her and she runs her fingers through my hair and over my scalp.

"Get out." She instructs as soon as she's done prodding. She picks up the towel and shakes it open. I step into it. "Dry off quickly."

She lifts a small towel and turns me around. She works it through my hair.

The mirror is all steamed up.

It's like being a child again. Only my childhood never had soft towels…or towels at all.

She drops her towel into a hamper and pulls the hair tie from my wrist. I hadn't noticed before but I was taller than her.

"Head back."

She hasn't braided my hair since I was small either.

When she finished my hair hangs in a thick rope at my back. I notice the folded clothes on top of the toilet seat and a pair of untouched looking white tennis shoes on the floor next to by discarded clothes.

She pulls the towel away from my body and tells me to put the jeans on. I do and they sit neatly on my hips but there was gap between the button and my tummy. They were also far too long. She drops down and begins rolling them up. A shiver passes over me when I realise they were the mistress's clothes.

My mother stands and she has the bandage in her hands. Without being told I lift my arms, not looking at her the whole time as she wraps it around my chest. When she finishes she hands me the folded dark purple garment that turns out to be a thin sweater. I pull it on marvelling at the softness against my skin. It just about fit too.

I pull on the socks.

"This feels so strange." I murmur.

"They told me to make you presentable." She replies. She's got a small smile again. "She won't miss these."

"You know she will."

She pauses. "Then I guess I just don't care."

She laces up the shoes for me. My toes don't reach the top but I like how they feel sturdy and the firmness of the soles.

All of this is eclipsed when I realise what it's all for.

"Mom, what am I going to do?"

She finishes tying my laces and takes a deep breath before looking up at me. Her hazel eyes are grave and I think this might be the last answer she'll ever give me.

"Tell me what to do."

Like she had earlier she takes my face in her hand and it fills me with dread.

"Survive." She whispers.

/

She tidies the towels into a hamper in the corner as I watch the steamed up mirror. I wonder if I should wipe some of it clean to see what colour my eyes were.

There a gentle tap on the door and we both jump.

"Rose." Dimitri's, Guardian Belikov's, voice carries through. "It's time to go."

My mother holds my eyes for a moment and I almost ask her to keep the door locked. She looks away and opens it. All the warmth of the bathroom floods out.

Guardian Belikov is standing in the doorway and he looks from my mother to me. I hold his gaze for a second too long before dropping mine to my old clothes on the floor. I can smell them from where I was sitting.

I stand up and follow him out into the bedroom.

"Guardian Belikov." My mother's voice stops us both. She twists her hands in front of her but she pushes her shoulder back as she looks at him. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Did you train in Russia?"

I almost look at him but I keep my eyes down.

"Yes."

"Do they still hold… teach the old ways there?"

"I was taught the code of honour and service."

She takes a deep breath and I see the anxiety in her eyes. "Do you live by it?"

"I do."

She glances at me.

"No harm will come to your daughter. I promise."

"A blood promise?" she says quickly, looking back at him anxiously.

There was heavy silence in which I didn't know where to look. Why was she asking questions, she told me to never ask questions and yet she was almost interrogating him.

She was doing it for me.

Risking punishment for me again.

I open my mouth to tell her to stop when Dimitri responds. "Yes."

He walks past me and my mother's eyes widen. I watch terrified and twitch a step forward when he pulls a deadly looking knife from his belt. The blade glinted at me. Bewildered I watch as he pulls the blade over his palm and holds it out to my mother who takes it. Her hands are so tiny, she is so tiny but she is looking at him levelly like she matched him in size.

"I seal an oath by blood that I will keep her safe." Dimitri states in a resolute tone.

My mother nods and their hands break apart, a bloody smear on both.

Dimitri stalks past me and I turn to follow.

"Wait." My mother squeaks and she reaches behind her head. The gold catches the light as she pulls it free and holds it out to me. "Take this."

She closes my hand around it. "A piece of me will be with you."

My throat closes over and I can't speak. She squeezes my hand once and then lets me go.

"You can come out to the car if you wish to." Dimitri offers gently.

She doesn't look away from my face. "No. No I don't want to."

Tightness in my chest copies that in my throat.

She drops her gaze.

"Don't cry," She murmurs.

I blink rapidly and do the one last thing I can for her. I set my shoulders and turn away, walking toward Dimitri.

I don't look back.

/

I follow Dimitri in silence through the house. It's quiet and we go down corridors I don't know. I worry he'll ask me for directions but he never does and I wonder how he knows.

My mother and a horrible feeling in my tummy try to take reign over my mind but I fight it. I can't find the numbness to pull around myself and I wonder was it because I was leaving the place I had found it in.

I was leaving.

I almost fall as the stairs pop into view at the edge of my feet. I right myself and don't look up to see if Dimitri notices and if he did he doesn't say anything. The stairs lead down to black and white tiles. This hallway was huge and I couldn't remember it at all. An even bigger chandler hangs from the ceiling. The staircase was twice as wide as any other and on my right side was a hallway but to the left opened up a grand room that had to be the living room. No, I had never been here.

I catch Dimitri's eye. He's waiting in the large open doorway watching me patiently. Behind him the stars gleam in the sky. I drop my gaze and move toward him but as I approach the door I realise he hasn't moved. I make myself look up.

His eyebrows are furrowed and for the first time tonight he looks concerned. His lips part as if to speak and I immediately question what it is that I have done wrong.

His gaze flicks behind me and he becomes expressionless.

"Not the way I planned on getting rid of you but it works just the same." A voice slurs and my body stiffens.

I want to run toward the stars.

"You will face me when I'm speaking to you!"

I half turn toward her but I don't look up.

She giggles and it crawls over my skin. "Look at you in my clothes. Trying to play dress up … you look ridiculous."

"Come Rose." Dimitri murmurs, curling his arm into the air around my shoulders to steer through the door.

"Wait!" she shrieks and I jump.

Dimitri's hand presses between my shoulder blades. I look up and his jaw is clenched, his eyes trained on her.

"You have no idea what you and that old man have done. No idea. He'll pay for this. So will you and that little bitch."

Dimitri's face has hardened over and his eyes have narrowed. I wonder if he'd attack her… a little bit of me wants him to.

He inhales deeply. "Goodnight Mrs Ozera. I would advise better treatment of those in your care. Your new guardians will be watching."

"How dare you threaten me!" she screams.

Dimitri's hand shoves me forward and I stumble out into the porch. Behind me he's filling up the doorway with his back to me. Mistress Ozera is screaming about half breeds and moroi importance. I can't see her but her voice still scrapes against my skin.

When she pauses to draw breath someone else speaks, I recognise as Mr Dashkov.

"Moira you have had far too much to drink. Please step away from Dimitri for your own sake."

She starts shrieking again and another man's voice is trying to calm her. Dimitri steps aside and Mr Dashkov steps onto the porch, the other two guardians behind him.

Up close he looks tired.

"Come dear." He says and I follow him down the steps.

I peek up at his guardians and back at the house. Dimitri is still in the doorway and beyond him I can see Master Ozera holding onto the Mistress. Some of her hair has come loose and she looks murderous.

I look away before her eyes find me.

The blond guardian opens a door at the front of a big, black car and helps Mr Dashkov step up into it.

"After you." A voice says. The dark haired guardian is holding open a door. He smiles slightly. "Do you need help into the jeep?"

I shake my head not sure if that it was the truth. I climb up into it and once I'm seated he closes the door with a soft click. It was cool inside, the leather under my hands was cold and it was smaller than I thought it would be. The blonde guardian climbs into the driver's seat beside Mr Dashkov. I jump as the door to my other side swings open and the guardian who had opened mine climbs in. I think his name was Ben.

The blonde was Spiridon.

But I couldn't call them that.

I hear Ben start muttering and I realize he has one of those ear pieces on. I look out the window at Dimitri on the porch.

"He's not happy." Mr Dashkov sighs.

"Since when is Dimitri ever happy?" Spiridon replies. "It actually went better than I thought it would, mores the pity."

"We still have a lot of work to do." Mr Dashkov murmurs.

"Gotta move the pawns before you can get to checkmate."

The car suddenly purrs beneath me and I clutch the seat.

"Who knew we'd get a souvenir out of this." The blonde says, grabbing my attention. He's grinning at me over his seat and I sink back against my own.

"Don't scare her even more. She has been through a great deal tonight." Mr Dashkov scolds.

He looks over his shoulder with pity on his face. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions dear. I will answer every one of them if you could just be a little more patient, it is a lot to ask I realise."

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do but thankfully he turns back around.

"What the hell is Belikov doing?" Spiridon asks no one in particular.

Mr Dashkov looks out his window. "I knew he'd struggle with this."

"Which is why you gave him the option not to come." Spiridon grumbles back. "We told the pilot six."

"Here he comes." Mr Dashkov says.

A moment later the door beside me opens and I jerk in my seat.

"Move over Rose." He says sounding strained.

I scramble over to the centre, trying to put as much space between myself and Ben as Dimitri takes the seat on my other side. I wish I was smaller.

"Saying your farewells?" Spiridon asks cheerily.

"Oh do shut up and drive." Mr Dashkov says.

Dimitri's face could be made of stone. In the mirror that hangs at the front of the car I see Spiridon grin. He pulls on a stick beside him and the car moves forward.

"Put your seatbelt on." Dimitri says quietly. At my baffled expression he reaches over me which makes me tense even more. His loose hair tickles my chin and then he pulls a strap across me, clicking it into the seat.

He relaxes back into his seat and I look straight ahead out at the dark, not able to see where Spiridon was driving us but I could feel the house getting further away and with it my mother. It makes me slightly dizzy.

I find it then, nestled deep inside, the numbness. I pull it around me as we drive unseeingly into the dark.

I had to survive.

/

Hello lovelies. Thank you for your patience. I had so much going on last week between uni stuff and work but I hope you liked a short snap of Dimitri's POV

And so the journey begins…


	7. Chapter 7

The coolness inside the car helps keep the numbness settled on my shoulders. That and how no one speaks. My mother's necklace is enclosed safely in my fist and the metallic feel of it kept me anchored in my stupor. I keep my eyes ahead on the front window as the world beyond it becomes more visible. The forest recedes away to the left as the car glides along a dusty path.

The forest disappears completely and the numbness quivers like it may slip. I had always known the trees but nothing beyond it. Looking out Dimitri's window the land stretches away and up into rocky slopes.

"Catalina's foothills." Dimitri says quietly.

I can't see where the rocks touch the sky from where I'm sitting. I look ahead again.

"We should be there in twenty, twenty five minutes. Be prepared to take off." Ben mutters on my other side.

I missed my books. They had always been a link to everything bigger and now I didn't have them to guide me. I had skimmed across words such as 'town' and 'city' and tried to absorb their description but it was hard with no mental image to go with it. They didn't seem like real things, just useless words on a page. I had tried to picture more houses like the Masters and more people walking around but I couldn't give the people purpose, I couldn't hold the image.

It would have been a false image.

The dust path we followed turned to grey with a white line marked in the middle. Buildings popped up, looking nothing like the manor house at all, then there more all different shapes and sizes. The numbness slipped off me as we drove into concrete forest. Buildings and different paths were everywhere, leading in every direction and there were some cars following them. How did anyone know where anything was and what everything meant?

There were huge pictures in windows of men and women. Signs were everywhere with musical symbols and words I couldn't catch because we drove by too fast and another took my attention.

A red light shines from a metal pole and the car slows in front of it. My mouth drops open as a picture demands my attention outside Ben's window. A woman was staring at us from the side of a small shelter. She wore a scarlet smile and not much else, just black panties and a matching bra. I knew what a bra was because my mother had one but hers was grey and the straps withered and frayed. She tied it in a knot at her back, sometime I had to help.

The car turns away and we leave the woman behind, posing for the rest of the world to see.

Who was she? What did her mother think?

She didn't seem afraid. Her smile reminded me of Spiridons as my masters fought with Mr Dashkov, confident and somewhat dangerous. A bitter neediness unfurled in my stomach. It shocks me and I try to stamp it out but the woman's smile won't go away. I frown at my lap confused by the sudden surge of emotion.

"Your better taking this left here." Ben says, bringing me out of wondering.

He glances at me but my gaze falls past him. One of the buildings was awake. A room was lit up and past the window I could see a man taking chair of table and turning them right side up. He was all in black but wore a green apron. I look at the blocked green letters above the window and then string them together, a word I don't know.

"Starbucks." Ben supplies, having followed what had my attention.

"Oh I'd love one." Spiridon says.

I didn't see any stars or bucks. I didn't see anything that could mean the conjoining of the two.

"What is it?"

Hearing my own voice surprises me and from the slight widening of Bens eyes I think it surprises him too. I needed more control.

"Coffee." Ben answers as the building slides away from the window.

I turn back to my lap more confused than ever.

"It's just a brand name." Dimitri explains quietly.

I mull that over and let my gaze travel to his knee. "Like how washing powders can be called different things? Ultratide?"

"Exactly."

Right.

Starbucks sounded stupid to me.

I work my lips and then force the words out. "Where are all… the people?" I had nearly said others.

"It's still early. Humans work through the day."

Oh.

Humans. Humans…. Dhampirs were half human. We were born from a Moroi and human parent. Dhampirs could get pregnant though, my mother had gotten pregnant, so my father was Moroi I knew. Two Dhampirs couldn't have children… which my mother said made the Guardians noticing me more dangerous. I couldn't have a child if….

I shiver.

"Are you cold?"

In surprise I glance up at Dimitri and then turn away, shaking my head.

He always seemed to be watching.

I look out Ben's window. The buildings have disappeared and I could see the day being born instead of just feeling it. The sky in the distance was becoming lighter, a bruised blue and I hope maybe I might see a sunrise.

Ben side-glances me and I'm forced to look down.

The anxiety buzzes over my skin as the minutes tick by, wanting to look but not being able to. I hold my hands tightly in my lap and mentally beg the sun to sleep a little longer.

The car slows to stop and naturally breeze brushes over my face. I don't look up because I'm being good, I'm being obedient and looking for the sun may wake it.

"Have you got a pass to be using this entrance?" A gruff voice asks. A new voice.

Don't look up.

"You don't remember me?" Spiridon replies playfully. There's a crinkling of paper.

"Go on ahead."

The car prowls forward and picks up speed.

There's a monstrous whooshing sound with a cry underneath it and my head snaps up.

A huge metal bird was gliding toward the ground outside Dimitri's window. Underneath its legs didn't look big enough to hold it and it was coming in fast and monstrous. The hand not clutching the necklace clings to the leather beneath me as the spindly legs touch the ground and thing bobs a little but glides along the ground, like a bird landing in a run. The car swerves to the right and the bird rolls away behind a huge metal structure. I'm craning my head around when I see Dimitri's watching me. I snap my head forward. I can't believe I'd forgotten myself again but I itched to look out the side windows, I wanted to see everything. I wanted to see how big that building was. I wanted to see where the metal bird went. I glance sideways and catch a glimpse of one streaked with red and then I look down again.

I pinch my thigh.

I shouldn't look.

Don't draw attention.

But everything else demanded mine.

I rack my brain trying to pull out words and apply them to what I'd just seen. It had the similarity to a car, a machine designed to travel but it flew and not many things man built flew.

**Aeroplane****: ****A powered flying vehicle with fixed wings and a weight greater than that of the air it displaces. **

The car stops and everyone moves, clicking noises and doors opening. A warm breeze coasts through the car. Ben and Dimitri aren't by my side anymore and Mr Dashkov and Spiridon are standing in front of the car. I scrabble to get out Dimitri's side when I'm yanked back against the seat. I grab the seat belt but it won't budge under my hands. It's become strict and unyielding.

"Let me get it." Dimitri says, ducking back inside.

Ben's door shuts.

I press against the seat as the car shrinks again. Another click and the belt slide back across my body. Dimitri ducks out and after a moment I follow.

The sky was getting lighter and in the distance I could see the peeking rays of gold. I stare completely absorbed for a moment before I realise what's waiting for us.

A small black plane that is standing proud with its face to the oncoming dawn.

"It's a jet." Dimitri supplies.

"I know." I say not taking my eyes away from it. We were getting on it, I knew we were getting on it but how did we get on it and then how did it get in the air? And where did we go? How far were we going that a car couldn't have taken us?

"You do?"

I tear my eyes away from the plane to Dimitri's curious expression.

What had I said?

Oh.

He raises an eyebrow. I open and shut my mouth.

"I hope you're not afraid of heights." Spiridon calls, grinning. He turn away as a man approaches Ben.

Mr Dashkov steps over to us and I avert my eyes. "If you are dear we can help you be more comfortable."

I think of the ladders in the library. "I'm not afraid."

"Well, you're braver than I. Let's get on board shall we?"

Ben hands over a set of keys to the man who'd joined them. He says something that makes Ben and Spiridon laugh before they break away and follow Mr Dashkov to the plane. I watch how different their walks are, how even in a relaxed walk the Guardian's shoulders are set and exuding power compared to Mr Dashkov who was strolling with complete ease toward the plane.

A section of the plane swings open, a door, and under it stairs begin to unfold.

I look up at Dimitri and he looks back at me patiently. I take a deep breath and walk toward it, trying to look more confident than I felt. Pretending to be confident fell completely out of my head as soon as I got inside. I expected seats, I mean, that was obvious but I didn't expect couches or a bar. It was all black and grey inside and on either side of where I stood are four seats, two facing two. Beyond them there are couches, a wide TV and a bar. Ben and Spiridon are facing each other on the left and Mr Dashkov sits alone on the right. I'm aware of Dimitri behind me waiting, always waiting.

I sit down opposite Mr Dashkov. If that was the wrong thing to do he doesn't say. Dimitri sits down beside him. There was a window between me and Mr Dashkov and I can see the gold and reds stretching across the sky. My heart begins beating a little faster.

A woman appears from the other end of the plane, the front I remembered, dressed in a long blue skirt and crisp white shirt with a high collar. Her hair was pinned up in a neat blonde bun. She was pretty.

I look down.

"We were worried you weren't going to make it." She says in a cheery tone and I sense her pass us.

"Nothing but a minor delay, Rachel." Mr Dashkov answers.

I hear what I imagine is the planes door being locked into place and suddenly I feel the whole thing begin to move.

"Is there anything I can get you before take-off?" Rachel asks coming back from the rear of the plane. She must have closed the door.

"No thank you." Mr Dashkov replies pleasantly.

The orange-gold orb peeks out from the horizon.

"Dimitri?" She asks and I look up. There's something hopeful in her expression.

"No thank you." He says tonelessly.

Her smile lessens a bit and then she walks back to the front of the plane.

"Jesus Belikov. Would it kill you to let her down gently?" Spiridon asks looking thoroughly amused.

Dimitri spares him a glance. Ben chuckles.

I don't understand, not really, I think.

"You could have been a little warmer." Mr Dashkov says quietly.

"I'd prefer to leave no room to encourage it." Dimitri responds.

Mr Dashkov turns away from him smiling. He looks out the window and his eyes narrow as a streak of sunlight hits his face. He opens the armrest and flicks a switch and a shutter descends over the window.

I forgot they didn't like sunlight. Stupid thing to forget seeing I was always out in the sun and never spent time around them, until recently.

My heart is a deflating balloon as I catch the last glimpse of the top of the blazing nectarine. I cast my eyes back down to my lap, linking my fingers together.

"Dear, you should lean back in the chair for take-off." Mr Dashkov says as I feel the plane turn under us.

I change my body to copy his, with my hands clutching each arm rest but I don't want to close my eyes like he did. I remember that he's afraid of heights but I wasn't, I wanted to see how high we were going to go, I wanted to see us leave the ground. I wanted to see us flying.

"Seatbelt." Dimitri prompts.

I hadn't noticed they were wearing theirs. Dimitri's eyes flick to my left shoulder and I find the belt nestled between the two seats. I pull it across my chest just like he had in the car and click it into place beside my thigh.

This one held against me tightly like the cars had when I was fighting with it. Is that normal? Before I can think about it anymore a weight thrusts against me as the plane makes a huge whooshing sort of noise and shudders beneath us. It reminds me of a car suddenly jumping forward but it doesn't stop, the sensation is drawn out and holding.

Until the weight tilts to be on my shoulders and the weirdest sensation makes my stomach fallout.

I knew we weren't on the ground anymore.

There was pressure inside my head and I imagine us climbing into the sky, past the clouds, on level with the sun, maybe above it?

I half worry the couches are going to tumble or slide toward us but nothing moves.

The room begins to level out so Mr Dashkov is not tilted toward me in his seat. After a few minutes there's a dinging noise.

I swallow and my ears pop.

Simultaneously the others unclick their belts. Ben gets up first and goes toward the TV.

"Well I think I deserve a drink." Spiridon announces standing up and stretching. "That okay boss?"

"You don't but it is." Mr Dashkov responds. "One though."

Spiridon saunters away as Ben lets out a whoop at the TV.

"How much?" Spiridon asks.

"Hundred bucks." Ben grins over his shoulder. "Go Tigers."

"It's like I have three children instead of one." Mr Dashkov says looking up at the ceiling.

Spiridon shakes his head and pops a cap off a green bottle.

"Now, I think it's about we were introduced properly." Mr Dashkov says, dropping his gaze to me. My stomach clenches. "I am Victor Dashkov, Prince of my Royal Moroi line."

He eyes me expectantly and beside him Dimitri nods in what I assume is encouragement.

"Rose." I say and I feel the ownership of my name slipping away which doesn't make sense.

"It's nice to meet you Rose. I'm sorry it has been in such terrible circumstance but we work with what we're given. Thank you for cooperating in coming with us."

Why was he thanking me or things I didn't have a choice in? I nod even though I don't know what I'm nodding for.

"Dimitri has probably already explained that it was for your own protection and because of what you witnessed in the woods. Of course I have Dimitri's account but as my Guardian his testimony won't carry as much weight as I'd need. Yours on the other hand would, especially under compulsion which you haven't been trained to resist."

I have a vague understanding of what he's talking about.

"This might sound crude dear but I think its best I don't sugar coat it. Under my protection you will have to abide by my rules, as to speak, you must do as I say. Ideally I would enrol you into the Academy near my home but without proper documentation and a form of ID it's not possible. Also I couldn't be sure you would deal well with mainstreaming into your peer group, as well as other problems like you have had no education or training of a novice and are not familiar with institutionalization."

I couldn't see how that was ideal at all. I had no idea what he was talking about. The only word I could grasp was 'academy'.

"So I'm left with the only option which is to keep you close. Dhampir slavery is not something I approve of so understand this dear, you are no longer a slave." He pauses as if that's supposed to sink in but it just brushes over my head. His lips purse before he continues. "But you do not have full freedom yet either which I do believe is best for now. For one you are not familiar with the world and how it works and two you need protected. You will be staying at my home, you will have your own room and the only option I can think of to benefit us both is that you become my employee. "

He was talking gibberish now.

"An employee to maintain my home doing things such as washing, cleaning and cooking. Basic chores. Nothing too laborious. In return I will give you a wage and I will get you a proper means of Identity. This will take some time as I have exhausted all my resources and need to earn favours. By then I will have convinced Lucas and Moira to see reason or at the very least not to harm you. Then you will be free to leave and live how you wish to."

My head was spinning again. His words were like creased sheets I just couldn't iron out.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions." Mr Dashkov says gently.

I did I just couldn't get my tongue to spit one out.

"This has to be overwhelming for her." Dimitri interjects and goes on in a tactful voice, "You are talking about a world she hardly knows and becoming a part of it, on her own."

I didn't like people talking about me like I wasn't there but right now I could hardly mind when I couldn't speak.

Freedom was such a colossal word with no face or picture to go with it. My life, or slavery as they'd called it, was my mother. It was familiar with its rules and had been all I'd known. I couldn't see beyond it. It was hard enough taking in I was on an aeroplane that took me higher than trees and probably the clouds.

I take a deep breath.

"Yes, yes, your right. I apologise Rose." Mr Dashkov says and it goes over my head as well. "I'll go and see about some supper, we can talk more afterward."

He gets up and makes his way over to Rachel and Ben.

"You are allowed to ask questions Rose, no matter what they might be." Dimitri says in a gentle voice.

I thread my fingers tighter together and swallow.

"Where are we going?" I ask quietly.

"Montana."

I knew that State. Well, I knew its name.

"The climate will be very different to what you're used to. Colder."

"Seriously? You're talking about the weather?" A voice drawls and I look up from my lap too see Spiridon leaning against the chair he'd occupied earlier.

"Rose asked where we were going." Dimitri answers and his voice has diluted to plainness. He didn't like him or didn't like something about him I could tell. It made me nervous about the guardian with the strange blonde hairstyle. I look back down.

"And the first thing you tell her is that it's cold? Well I suppose that's something that you would find to be a selling point."

Dimitri stares ahead as if bored or pretending the other man doesn't exist. I can't do that, I can't even mange to keep my eyes downcast and keep darting peeks at both of them.

Spiridon sits down in the seat he'd been leaning against. "So we call you Rose?"

"That's what Dimitri said."

I don't know if I'm being brave or stupid but I didn't like the way he was speaking to me. Not when I'd experienced how the other people on this plane spoke to me as if we were close to being on the same level. Spiridon spoke to me like every guardian ever had. I should probably use it as a reminder, they were far above me.

Spiridon raises an eyebrow. "Dimitri said we call you Rose? Why did he get to name you?"

He was talking to me like I was stupid and the warning I'd been trying to convince myself to abide by evaporates.

"Don't tease her." Dimitri says coolly.

Spiridon rolls his eyes. "I'm kidding." He eyes me as he takes a drink from his bottle. It seems important I hold eye contact.

"Yes, unfortunately he does that a lot." Mr Dashkov says returning to his seat. Dimitri sits up straighter so Mr Dashkov can manoeuvre his long legs. "Rachel says supper will be ten minutes."

"Good. I'm _starving_." Spiridon announces and slouches down in his chair.

Dimitri shoots him a dark look that he doesn't notice.

"Another thing I think is important I tell you." Mr Dashkov begins seriously, leaning toward me with his hands clasped. "Is that you can, at any time, tell Spiridon to shut up. Even if he isn't speaking."

"Why is everyone a hater?" Spiridon says to the ceiling.

"That sounded scarily like something Natalie would say." Mr Dashkov frowns.

"Who is someone else you can tell to shut up at any time." Spiridon says to me.

"Natalie is Victor's daughter." Dimitri says quietly and I'm grateful.

"Yes I should warn you about Natalie. Oh no dear, don't look so alarmed. Natalie is just a little bit of handful, very enthusiastic, but she has a heart of gold."

"Like a hyper puppy who can talk." Spiridon adds.

"She is currently on vacation with some family friends. She should be back in a day or so. Maybe later on tonight, I keep forgetting what time it is."

"I don't." Spiridon yawns.

I'm sure if it weren't for the stimulant Dimitri gave me that I would be a lot more exhausted than I was feeling. Right now my mind was alert and the only thing wearing on me was the pain in my arm. I hadn't taken the pain killer Dimitri had left on the night stand. I hope my mother had taken the bottle to hide, that way she had two stashed away. I shy away from thoughts of my mother as it brews a dark, sickening feeling in my stomach.

Mr Dashkov sighs. "So much work to do and it's not the right time for any of it."

"It can wait until morning." Dimitri murmurs. "With the exception of the alchemists, did anyone call ahead?"

They both look over at Spiridon.

"No sorry." He says and looks like he means it. "Moira was raving so much and trying to rouse that guardian that I forgot."

Dimitri calls over to Ben who shakes his head.

"I'll try the cabin phone." Dimitri says and makes his way past Ben to where Rachel emerges with two trays. She smiles at him as they pass each other. It's impossible to know if he smiled back. I get a little bit uneasy without his presence but as long as I wasn't left alone with Spiridon I would be fine.

"When we land remind me to text Natalie." Mr Dashkov tells Spiridon and then looks at me. "When she gets home she'll be able to shop for you dear, get you the essentials before she goes back to school."

I didn't know what the essentials might be and I'm saved from having to ask as Rachel reaches us.

"Carrot and coriander soup with half a chicken and brie sandwich." She says cheerily as Mr Dashkov presses a button under the shaded window that makes the floor between us rise. I look down at my feet and the part that has comes away leaves a rectangular shape behind, a smooth black dip. I think I expected to see the wheels of the plane or the top of a cloud.

Rachel sets the trays down in front of me and Mr Dashkov on the makeshift table. Spiridon looks longingly at the steaming bowls and it's the first time I've ever that I'd taken precedence over a guardian, over anyone bar my mother. It baffles me a little so I'm left staring anxiously at the tray waiting for someone to take it from me.

"Lovely." Mr Dashkov murmurs. "Thank you Rachel."

"What dessert did you get?" Spiridon asks eagerly, craning his neck.

"Milk and white chocolate cheesecake slice." Mr Dashkov reads aloud and I glance at the triangular piece on my tray, covered in plastic packaging.

Dimitri slides back into the seat beside Mr Dashkov and I hope he'll tell me what to do.

"Couldn't get a signal." He says as Mr Dashkov takes a spoonful. The smell was all around me and I wished the floor had opened up below and that way I could have jumped out.

Rachel comes back with two more trays. Setting one down for Dimitri and other in front of Spiridon who'd erected his own table. Dimitri thanks her and Spiridon immediately bites off half his sandwich.

"They may not even be awake yet. Wait until we land." Mr Dashkov says and Dimitri nods, picking up his spoon.

"Are you not hungry Rose?" I force myself to look up at Mr Dashkov's worried expression. "Would you like something else?"

I shake my head.

Dimitri's gaze adds on to the weight of his charge.

"Eat in your own time then." Mr Dashkov says gently.

It was all for me. More than I'd eat in a day and it was all for me. My throat becomes very tight. My mom would have nothing until morning and even then it would be next to nothing.

"Wash goin on?" Spiridon asks around his food.

"Nothing at all." Mr Dashkov replies. "Has Hans emailed yet?"

Dimitri takes out his phone as a rush of cheering sounds from the TV. Ben throws his fist into the air. I pick up my spoon whilst no one notices.

"It's done." Dimitri says.

"Any trouble?"

"None that he mentions."

"I can't imagine Moira has calmed down."

"Maybe she passed out?" Spiridon suggests.

I cautiously take a half a spoonful of the thick, orange soup and put it into my mouth. Flavour blossoms over my tongue in a carrot and spice wave. The hint of herbs and salt are perfectly balanced.

I'm back in Mary's kitchen and I am very small as my mother blends ingredients together.

"I don't understand how they consider fighting alongside their guardians degrading but not the possibility of being awakened." Dimitri's voice brings me back to the present.

"It's about power." Mr Dashkov replies and takes up his sandwich. "They've probably been fed propaganda too and isolating themselves out there in the desert doesn't help keep them grounded. Having Lucas at court will show him sense, I'm sure of it."

"I hope they aren't too hard on Tasha." Dimitri says and emotion almost comes onto his face.

"She'll be able to handle it. It's Christian I worry for."

The soup was a pocket of warmth in my stomach, like I'd eaten sunshine. It would have been blissful if the warmth didn't mirror the one in my arm, making it harder to ignore.

"They wouldn't harm him." Spiridon responds. He tears of the plastic cover of his dessert. "He's their little prince."

"It's what they think is best for him actually concerns me." Mr Dashkov says.

I tear off a piece of my sandwich; the melted cheese oozes out around the white chicken breast. I dip it into the soup and pop it into my mouth. It was incredible but my eyes dart to the dessert slice. I didn't want to fill up on bread.

"I spoke with Christian. He's going to leave and stay with Tasha until school starts." Dimitri voices calmly.

"You think they'll let him?" Spiridon asks, wiping crumbs from his shirt front. He'd devoured his cake slice in three bites.

"I think they'll be so busy adjusting that he'll be able to get away fine. I told him to ask a new guardian to drive him to the airport. I think he'll be leaving tomorrow."

"I'll ask after him when I speak to Natasha later." Mr Dashkov says and then sighs. He sets down his spoon. "I am utterly shattered."

"We have an hour or so left. You could go lie down." Dimitri replies and reaches out for his sandwich. It's then I remember the gash he'd made in his palm but his outstretched hand is perfectly fine. The other is beneath the table. I think back to when he answered the phone and it had been with the hand he's using now, he was hiding the other, like I was hiding mine with my mother necklace.

"I might take a nap." Spiridon says, resting his head back and shutting his eyes.

"Everybody finished?" Rachel asks, appearing by Dimitri's head.

She lifts Spiridon's tray (he doesn't stir) and Mr Dashkov's. I panic she'll take mine but she leaves it and Dimitri's alone. He asks for some coffee and she smiles brightly.

"Thank you Rachel." Mr Dashkov says. "I think I will go and lie down. Excuse me."

Dimitri stands to let him by and he disappears in the direction we'd come on board.

"There are two cabin beds in the back." Dimitri explains.

He was always ready to answer the questions poised in my head. I tear off another piece of my sandwich. Rachel comes back with his coffee and asks him if he needs anything else. The way she was looking at him was strange, almost admiring and eager. I uncurl my fist and trace the tracks left by the gold chain. Back at the house I'd known how important it was to please but this situation wasn't stressful or it didn't seem to be. Maybe it was for her, maybe it was because I was on the other side of the table this time. However the look on her face made this seem unlikely, she was happy about waiting on us or rather Dimitri. In comparison he looked relaxed and oblivious to her efforts.

What was it he'd said earlier about not encouraging her? Encouraging what? The woman in her black underwear burns bright in my mind.

"Rose?" I jerk up, startled at hearing my name. Dimitri is looking at me. "Do you want anything else? Coffee? water?"

Rachel is still smiling but the smile doesn't reflect in her eyes as she watches me. I think she's annoyed.

I shake my head.

"If you wanted something would you tell me?" Dimitri asks when she's left.

I think if it were any of the others had asked me this it would have felt like a confrontation but Dimitri exuded a calm curiosity. I was beginning to think this may just be his manor and if more strigoi burst from the other end of the plane I doubted his expression would change. The day I saw him worried would probably be a very bad day.

I nibble on my bread and make myself look at him. "No."

"You are allowed to want things now." He says, his eyes holding mine.

"I know I'm allowed to want things. Everybody wants things. Wanting is just... a bit pointless." I'm surprised by how much I've said and my cheeks heat.

He studies me for a moment and I note again the rich colour of his eyes. "You might not tell me when you want things but you have to tell me when you need them. Okay?"

I squish the bread into a small ball between my fingertips. "What do you mean?"

He takes a sip of his coffee. "I suppose it will take some time to get used to. You're not just going to get the bare minimum anymore. You were given even less than that. There's a lot you're entitled to as a human being and by dhampir blood. You're allowed to want things now, to ask for them… that doesn't mean you'll get them. But if you want a bottle of water or need another pain killer, things like that, you can always ask. You can ask me anything."

"I can ask you anything?" I repeat staring at the bread ball.

He hesitates for a moment as if assessing the implications of what he'd stated. "Yes."

My heart beats faster as my tongue spasms in my mouth, conflicted in trying to shape words. I let out a quiet cough and test him. "Can I try your coffee?"

I don't look up from the table as my cheeks flame hotter. He slides the thick papered looking cup across the surface. I'd never had coffee. I reach out and take it, the papers warm and sturdy. By sheer will I make myself take a drink, trying not to crumble under the weight of his gaze.

A bitter taste fills my mouth and I swallow quickly just to get rid of it. My nose wrinkles and I slide the cup back toward him quickly.

"Some people prefer it with milk and sugar."

My face is still contorted in distaste as I look up at him. His lips are pursed together and there's something behind his level gaze.

"I don't want that." I say thickly. I scoop up some soup that's almost cold and eat it just to get rid of the taste.

"How's your arm?"

"Okay."

My fingers inch toward the cake slice. He hasn't eaten his either. He hasn't eaten much of anything.

"How's your hand?" I dare to return and my voice comes out barely above a whisper.

I knew he'd explain like he had been explaining things all day without having to be asked directly. The 'blood promise' he'd made with my mother had been in the back of mind for a number of reasons. It might explain why she'd told me not to trust him but then trusted him with an oath which he'd made in blood. To protect me…did he really mean it or was slicing his hand open a mundane occurrence. He'd kept the promises he'd made so far…

But I'd only known him a couple of hours and I'd known guardians my entire life. He didn't feel like a guardian though. Spiridon did and to an extent so did Ben but I hadn't really spent enough time around him. I think I made him nervous...

I've slid the cake slice a fraction toward me when he answers.

"Fine. I've had worse injuries from a strigoi."

I'm about to question what an earth he's talking about when his expression silences me. His eyes were trained intensely on me and I knew well enough it meant to be quiet. It also meant I was pinned under his gaze which made it a little be harder to breathe.

"What? The strigoi landed a blow on you?" Spiridon asks, suddenly coming to life. I flinch back in my seat. He casts me a fleeting glance but his attention is on Dimitri, who takes an undisturbed sip of his disgusting drink.

Spiridon leans across the aisle grinning. "Seriously? Let me see."

Dimitri holds up the hand that been under the table, looking nonchalantly ahead.

Spiridon raises an eyebrow. "That's a pretty clean cut."

"It had use of a knife."

"Strigoi are bringing knives to the fight now?" Spiridon says and there's something lurking under his smirk, a glint in his eye that's calculating.

The way he was looking to Dimitri, a challenge, made me want to speak up.

But that voice was back, telling me not to.

_Eddie._

Dimitri turns his head a fraction and returns the other Guardians stare. "No, it belonged to Rose. She stabbed it."

Spiridon eyes flick to me in surprise and he leans back slightly. "_She_ stabbed it?"

I don't know why but his tone was insulting..

"Who stabbed who?" Ben asks, coming to stand between both men's seats.

"Belikov says she stabbed the strigoi back at the Ozera's and then it sliced his hand open with her knife."

Ben's eyebrows shoot up and he gives me a look paralleling Spiridon's.

"Why did you have knife?" Ben asks.

I'm pressed up against my seat, bother hands clinging to it under me. My mother's necklace is pressed into my palm. Dimitri isn't giving me any helpful looks or ones of warnings so I make my dry mouth verbalise the truth.

"My mother gave it to me."

"Birthday present was it?" Spiridon says. This time the insult is clear and if I had any doubts about it then the glower Dimitri gives his colleague would confirm it. Even Ben stops staring at me to look uncomfortably down at the blonde.

"I've never had a birthday present." My voice comes out cold despite the hot rush in my ears.

Spiridon's smirk deepens and Ben speaks, his voice treading carefully among the tension.

"Why did you have it?"

My mind spins trying to think of a lie.

"Rose was injured by Moira the day before last. Her mother gave her means so it never happened again." Dimitri answers.

"Ha, could you imagine if she had? I wonder what kind of chaos we would have walked into." Spiridon muses.

"I just can't believe you stabbed a strigoi, I mean you've had no training whatsoever and even then it's still difficult." Ben says but there's marvel in his voice. The disbelief in his eyes isn't insulting at all.

"It must have been young." Spiridon reasons with a shrug. He turns his wicked gaze back on Dimitri. "I can't believe it made a _God_ bleed."

"I never knew you admired me quite so much." Dimitri says jadedly. "How foolish."

Spiridon scowls and Ben lips tug upward. He notices my baffled expression and nods toward Dimitri. "That's a nickname the kids gave him at the academy where we trained. Only Galina could knock him on his ass."

Dimitri's lips twitch a little and he looks up to exchange a look with Ben. He recalls something about 'Galina' too quiet for me to hear, some life seeping into his stoic face. His dark hair falls forward and I find myself looking at how the sharp planes of his cheekbone and the strong curve of his jaw, under that the tan column of his neck.

I catch Spiridon staring at me in the middle of my inspection and quickly look down. I wish again that the plane's floor gave way to the clouds but for different reasons, ones I wasn't quite sure I understood.

"Too bad he's not around anymore. Being knocked on his ass humbles a man." Spiridon says.

Ben pauses in whatever he's saying and casts Spiridon an annoyed look. Dimitri's face closes over and I find myself irritated by Spiridons bitterness even though I didn't understand it fully.

"You'd think you'd be more modest then." Ben says lightly, trying to ease the tension that was pressing up against us all.

Guardians… Guardians were volatile. Their temperament had to be handled. This is what I knew of them and this is what I feared. Spiridon needed handled right and I could see that the other men knew that. But what happened if they all turned on each other, without anybody to bear all that anger on… what if they turned it on me.

"Don't worry too much about me." Dimitri says plainly. "I was knocked 'on my ass', as you put it, last night."

"The strigoi knocked you down?" Spiridon asks, laughter playing into his voice. I squirm in my seat. Dimitri was the one who'd barrelled into the strigoi last night, sending them rolling, but it was all instigated by him and the fight had been short.

Ben didn't look too believing either.

Dimitri's eyes lift from his coffee cup to mine. "No. Rose did."

Now they were all looking at me.

Spiridon guffaws. "Yeah right."

Ben even laughs awkwardly, casting me a sympathetic glance.

After a moment in which Dimitri takes another drink and Spiridon's sniggers have died off, Ben asks. "Are you being serious?"

"Yes." Dimitri answers simply.

Spiridon and Ben look at each other, then at me. Spiridon opens his mouth, shuts it, and then takes a deep breath and jabs a finger across the aisle at Dimitri. "Did you knock him on his ass?"

I look between them all before nodding.

"Seriously?" Ben asks, leaning down to my level as if he'll see a hint of a lie on my face.

"Yes." I try to make my voice as strong as possible. As soon as they believe it the sooner they'll leave me alone.

Although… a small part of me was enjoying this. The rapt look on their faces as they tried to believe I'd done something they wouldn't think was possible. That through listening to their conversation it was obvious that Dimitri was not someone easily defeated in combat. Even though all I did was thrash around a bit and I was certain that the roots and terrain took most of the credit for sending us both to the ground… but the under growth could hardly speak up and take the glory. The ground was actually very far away. It would never know.

Spiridon holds up his hands. "You expect me to believe that she stabbed a strigoi, who then wielded a blade against you and then she knocked you over? That little thing right there, who couldn't be more than 5ft 6 and weigh more than 90 pounds? Her?"

"My name is Rose." I snap angrily before Dimitri can speak, gaining more astonished expressions. "And yes I did. I punched him in the face."

Ben cracks first. "Oh my god!" and then he laughs.

"I don't believe it." Spiridon says wrinkling his nose.

Dimitri sweeps the hair that had fallen into his face back and turns his face to the other men. Between his temple and his cheekbone is a slightly discoloured patch of skin, a red mark where my knuckles had caught him. My lips part and I take a shallow breath.

I had done that… maybe I couldn't take credit for knocking him over but I could certainly take it for that. I had marked a guardian.

Ben's grin gets bigger and Spiridon squints and the small piece of evidence.

"Jesus you are really off your game." The blonde says. "You're lucky you weren't killed or worse."

"Rose is tougher than she looks." Dimitri responds, letting his hair fall forward. He looks at me then the way he had when I'd asked about his hair in the Master's room, like he was suppressing a smile.

Why would he pleased that I'd hit him though? I could be pleased about it and I was more than relieved there'd been no following punishment or at least there hadn't been yet. Maybe that's why he remained so calm because he was assured he'd have payback later.

A coldness pools in my stomach and I clutch my mother's necklace, the pendant digging into my palm. She warned me not to trust him, it's the last advice she'd given me, the last bit of guidance I had.

"I guess she'd have to be." Ben says smiling and he throws himself into the seat opposite Spiridon.

"She'd have to be a secret Hulk. I still don't believe it." Spiridon mutters.

"You just don't want to believe Rose achieved what you never could." Ben replies smugly, earning a glare from the blonde.

"What has Rose achieved?" Mr Dashkov asks, emerging from the back. His grey suit and royal blue shirt looked as immaculate as I he'd been standing the whole time.

"The impossible it seems." Spiridon says folding his arms.

Mr Dashkov sits down beside me and I shift as far over as possible as Dimitri recalls last night in the woods. Everything was true apart from the bit where the strigoi took the knife out of its side and used it against Dimitri when he attacked. Mr Dashkov didn't seem to find the strigoi taking the knife odd as Spiridon had, instead he like Ben was surprised that I'd attacked the pale monster.

"That took a tremendous amount of courage. Impressive." Mr Dashkov says and I shrug at my knees. The pressure was back, the pressure to do or say what they wanted. I didn't know how to. "No dear, you should know most Guardians first experience in the field makes them freeze in fear, costing them their lives. You should be proud of yourself."

"It was probably an advantage to her though, not knowing what it was and what it was capable of." Spiridon guesses and I wondered why this was irritating him so much. I guessed it was because he seemed to like being the centre of attention.

"Perhaps." Mr Dashkov allows. "What a lovely chain."

I'd been mindlessly toying with my mother's gold necklace and it had been soothing me some.

"Where did you get it?" he asks.

I hesitate before answering. I didn't want him to think I had stolen it. "My mother."

"May I?"

His hand extends across the space between us. I unwind the chain from my fingers and reluctantly drop it into his palm. I clasp my hands together in my lap.

"The Turkish eye." He murmurs and I glance over to the golden oval pinched between his thumb and index finger. I hadn't had the opportunity to examine it yet but now I could see in the gold casing there was background of blue to the black pupil.

"Turkish?" Ben repeats.

"Yes, it's said to keep away bad spirits and evil." Mr Dashkov explains and then holds the necklace back out to me. "It must bring your mother some comfort to have it with you."

"Why would a slave have something like that?" Spiridon asks and cocks his head.

My blood begins to warm in my veins. "She's always had it."

"Did Lucas give it to her?"

It takes me a moment to recall who that is and even though I haven't been moving everything in me goes utterly still. Dimitri sets his cup down with a thud and his jaw tightens as he glares over at the other man.

"Spiridon." Mr Dashkov hisses.

"What?" He replies looking affronted. "You heard what Moira said and if she is his bastard then you have more leverage than you thought."

Ben groans. "You just don't know when to shut up."

"_What?_" Spiridon exclaims holding up his hands again.

"My mother had it before she was brought to that place." I say between my teeth. I couldn't let them think it was something from him, that she kept and prized a treasure from someone who…who did what he did to her.

And that she would give to me as a sentimental gesture.

Spiridon looks intrigued. "Did she? Where did she come from?"

My mouth hangs open my tongue trying to roll out words that aren't there. I knew she was born and brought up in Scotland but I got the sense she didn't stay there. She'd never talked about the before, she never talked about herself at all.

Spiridon's face relaxes into an arrogant smile and I want nothing more than to lunge over the table and beat it off.

"I think you should keep you speculations to yourself." Dimitri says coldly.

Spiridon rolls his eyes and then looks pointedly at Mr Dashkov. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it. If she's the child of Lucas's whore then-"

My knee bangs loudly and painfully with the table but I don't care - I don't even know how I ended up on top of it - all I know is that my blood is burning like the desert sun and that I was going to make him shut up. I was going to wipe that stupid smirk of his face. All my intentions were made impossible because in the same instant other hands were reaching for me and there was yelling.

"Shit!" Ben exclaims.

"Rose." Mr Dashkov yells.

I had the satisfaction of seeing Spiridon's smirk disappear and give way to utter shock. I know it was it was the last thing he'd expected and not because he saw me as threat but in that split second I enjoyed it all the same. Until Dimitri plucked me off the table and pulled me into the seat beside him.

"Calm down." He instructs fiercely, one arm firmly around my waist holding me down. My feet, in the mistress's too big shoes, were awkwardly on the table. Across from us Mr Dashkov's face was livid and it brings me back to myself. But he wasn't looking at me.

He jabs a finger across the aisle. "For once can you keep your mouth shut. You insensitive idiot."

My chest is raising and falling rapidly, the edges of my chest binding biting into my skin. I take my feet from the table the reality of what had just happened setting in. How stupid was I? Realizing what I'm doing Dimitri removes his arm and I right myself into the seat, turning my body toward the plane's wall.

"I just said what we were all thinking." Spiridon's says and there's a note of puzzlement under the defensive tone.

Dimitri responds with something too low for me to hear but there's tenseness in the air that tells me enough.

"My apologies Rose." Mr Dashkov says in a low voice. I peek up and see he's leaning across the table with his expression mirroring his words. I drop my eyes to my curled fists in my lap trying to calm this erratic feeling coursing through me.

It ebbs away slowly leaving unstableness behind.

I would not cry.

Instead I focus on the pain throbbing in my arm. It had really flared up and was no longer something I could cope easily with. I must have banged it against Dimitri when he pulled me across the table to prevent me from _trying_ to attack Spiridon.

Was I trying to get myself killed?

"I'm sorry." It comes out on a small, shaky breath.

"Nobody blames you." Dimitri says quietly.

His hands are also clenched on the table and I lift my eyes high enough to see the tension in his jaw. The strain around his lips. I drop my gaze.

The plane bounces beneath us and I flinch, reaching for my right arm with my left hand.

"Did you take the painkillers I left you?"

My heart sinks at the strain in his voice and I shy back against the seat at his side long glare. Maybe it was just his accent and the lowness of his voice that made it sounded harsher, disappointed. I swallow and shake my head. Dimitri closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He exhales and turns away to Mr Dashkov.

"When we land I'll take Rose to see Darnell. You three should go ahead to the house."

Mr Dashkov regards him across the table. "Whatever you think is best."

"Almost time to land." Rachel's voice calls out from behind us. "Please fasten your seatbelts and pass me any excess rubbish. Oh, what happened here?"

I realize then the mess I'd created on the table. My over turned bowl and even worse, my smashed cake slice looking grotesque inside the crumpled plastic. My heart sinks even further. My hand twitches forward and back again because I should clean it up but Rachael is already there and Dimitri is clearing up the scattered remains of our sandwiches and dropping them into her trash bag. He lifts his dessert off the table and puts it safely in his lap as Rachael leaves with the trash and returns with a wet cloth, refusing to let Dimitri clean it up. She casts him long glances rom under her lashes as she mops at the table and there was something suggestive about the way she held her body.

Uncomfortably I look back down at my lap, curling my mother necklace around my fingers. I undo the fastening and bring it up around my neck and after a few tricky moments - that are made harder by the shaking of my hands - I finally hook the ends together.

"It looks charming." Mr Dashkov compliments.

I try to smile, half to show appreciation and half in apology for the stunt I'd just pulled.

My mother would be so disappointed, that's if hadn't passed out from shock. I touch the pendant at the hollow of my throat promising to do better. I'd had to rebuke myself so much in the last couple of hours. I could blame it on fatigue or leaving or being shaken but If I did not get myself under control then I wouldn't have t rebuke myself at all because likely I would get myself killed.

Rachael giggles, breaking me out of my thoughts. I was pretty sure the entire time she was making a show of cleaning the table she had been the only one speaking so I don't know why she was laughing. I couldn't see Dimitri's expression and leaning forward would risk seeing Spiridon.

My control wasn't strong enough for that.

"Well I better get back before we descend." She purrs before standing up straight. She touches Dimitri's shoulder as she passes and behind her I see Ben shaking his head, a small smile touching his lips.

"Seatbelt." Dimitri says from the corner of his mouth.

"I already have."

He looks over now, his gaze dropping to the belt over my hips.

"Good." He says and rests his head back against the chair.

Landing was different to taking off. It was worse because the windows remained closed as time had plunged us deeper into the day which made the sun too uncomfortable or Mr Dashkov to bear. Looking at him I could the dark circles under his eyes and I estimated that with travelling they must have been awake for maybe just under a full day, maybe over. The Guardian's didn't look just as tired but I could see in the set of Bens shoulders that weariness was wearing on him. I could feel the edges of tiredness creeping up on me, the barrier the stimulant was holding up against it was coming down and I knew it wouldn't be long before my body crashed.

The thought terrified me.

I couldn't pass out unaware. Nobody to protect me, with people I didn't know surrounding me… when I didn't know what they were doing.

These thoughts were pushed out of my mind as the plane tilted slightly back and my heart tried to climb up my throat, beating in frantic pulses. The plane suddenly jerks underneath us and I gasp. I know that the wheels had touched down and I swallow against the panic I had felt hours earlier when I watched the bigger plane land when I'd worried the legs would snap beneath it. The whooshing fills my ears and I shut my eyes, concentrating on the feel of the plane rolling against the ground like a car would and finally it comes to a stop.

"I'll collect our belongings and thank the pilot." Spiridon announces and I make sure to look away as he stands up.

Ben already has an ear piece on and is talking quietly. Dimitri and Mr Dashkov unbuckle themselves, I do the same.

"Here." Dimitri says under his breath and passes the cake slice from his lap to mine. My hands clumsily take it and I hold it gingerly, scared I'll destroy this one too.

I stare down at it completely stunned when sense returns to me. I turn to him about to thank him but he's already standing, a towering man above. Mr Dashkov heaves himself out of his seat too.

"The cars are parking up." Ben says, getting to his feet and stretching.

"Does someone have my umbrella?" Mr Dashkov asks, his voice low and heavy.

"Right here." Spiridon says and passes it over.

Ben disappears into the back and a moment later fresh, cool air blows in around us. The hairs on my arms stand up

"Thank you Rachael. Until next time dear, take care." Mr Dashkov calls and with a small wave he follows after Ben, Spiridon after him.

"Your coat, Dimitri." Rachael says coming to stand beside him in aisle, preventing me from getting up.

"Thank you."

He takes the large leather bundle folded under over her arms and shakes it out. It was a very long coat and he slips his arms through it. It looked a little strange but it suited him.

"I slipped my number into the pocket." She says in a low voice that I supposed was meant to be…compelling? I had an idea of what was happening, a sort of backwards version of what I'd been warned about my whole life. I felt like I was witnessing something I shouldn't be and I wished she'd pull him away to do whatever it is she was doing but at the same time I was intrigued and couldn't look away.

Dimitri pauses and then looks at her with a steady, serious gaze. His voice is gentle but there's firmness to it. "Rachael, I'm flattered but I am not looking to date right now."

"Neither am I." She replies unabashed. She turns away from him smiling, her gaze skimming over me, before walking away to the other end of the plane. There was a way in her stride that accentuated her hips and bottom.

My mother would slap me if I did that.

I catch Dimitri's eye and look away. Rachael said she'd left him something in his pocket but she'd also left awkwardness in her wake.

"Come on." Dimitri says and it sounds so normal that it eases me slightly.

I shimmy out of my seat and follow him, watching his heels kick out beneath the end of his coat. When his boots take a step down on the metal stairs light hits my face and I look up. The first thing I notice is green, so much green. Trees were standing tall and rich with jade leaves then beyond them mountains brushing against a crisp blue sky.

It was hard to imagine, to believe, that we had been up there.

The sun was not a blazing dominant orb in the sky but had tempered to become softer, a cooler version of the one I'd always known. The warmth gently touched my face but despite this I couldn't help but be cold.

Somehow I felt as if I was seeing for the first time to. Maybe it was because my gaze was bowed down by the heat or blazing light or maybe it was because I was allowed to see and absorb my surroundings without fear of someone noticing me.

I take a deep breath.

"Rose?" Dimitri calls.

I drop my gaze lower to my immediate surroundings. Dimitri is waiting at the bottom of the steps and behind him are two cars. One prowls forward and then drives away. I glimpse Mr Dashkov in the passenger seat and Ben in the one behind him. Spiridon must be driving.

"Unless you want to be standing there when the jet takes off again I suggest you hurry."

I take the steps down - on the third I'm same height as him – until I reach the tarmac, the ground of my new world.

I follow his boots to the car. He opens the door for me like Ben had but this time to the front seat. This car was just as high as the other and I'm too aware of him as I heave myself up. I didn't want to struggle, it would be embarrassing. I remember how Rachael had walked with her sway and I wonder how she would have gotten into the car and if Dimitri would have noticed.

Stricken I shake my head slightly. What did that matter?

Dimitri climbs into the driver's seat effortlessly. Yeah, sure it was easy with legs as long as his.

I toy with the pendant at my throat.

"I've told you before." He says quietly over the gentle purr of the car coming to life.

"I know. Seatbelt."

Hastily I pull it around me and click it into place.

"No not that but it's good you learning." He says as the car rolls away from the plane. "I meant, if you have a question then ask me."

I hesitate for a moment, clutching my pendant and then I decide to risk it. "Even if it makes you mad?"

"I don't very often get mad." He replies in his calm voice. I realize then that is his natural tone, calmness.

"Spiridon makes you mad." My heart trips over itself. I must definitely be affected by this day because the filter between thinking and speaking had shorted out like a fuse. Then again maybe it was just out of practice. I needed more discipline.

"I don't like when people intimate those more vulnerable than them."

"I'm not vulnerable." I blurt out.

He doesn't hesitate. "Yes you are."

Has he forgotten that I'd tried to throw myself across the table to strangle Spiridon?

Shame flares up in my body in remembrance. That's probably what he meant, if I had reached the blonde guardian what the hell could I have achieved? He would simply swat me away like a fly. My cheeks flood with heat and anger curls in my stomach. I didn't want to be vulnerable though…that was more embarrassing than the whole incident where I'd behaved like a child throwing a tantrum. But these were stupid and empty wants too, I couldn't be any more than what I was and what I was was nothing or at the very least I was something that was useful to Mr Dashkov's plans for a burrowed time.

Then what after? What use did I have then?

_Free to leave and do what you wish to…_

"Were you really going to try and hit Spiridon?" Dimitri asks, somehow picking up on the thread of my thoughts. He didn't sound like he was mocking me, only curious.

"Try." I murmur, wrapping my arms around myself. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. He would have deserved it."

I turn to him surprised. He glances at me out the side of his eye but keeps his attention on the road.

"If he'd spoken about my mother that way I would have done the exact same thing."

"I doubt anyone would have been able to hold you back." Or put you into a seat like you were a child.

"No they would wouldn't but that wouldn't necessarily be a good thing."

"Why not?"

"Victor is fond of Spiridon. It would annoy him if I put him out of commission."

I look out at the passing forest. I liked that it was cooler her although there was goose bumps on my skin as my body hadn't adjusted yet.

"I don't like him."

"You'll learn to handle him or living with him will be difficult."

I was going to be living with guardians, in a house…

"Is that where we're going? To Mr Dashkov's?"

"You can call him Victor and no. I know you must be tired but you need medical attention."

"A doctor?" I ask, recalling my mother's question in the master's bedroom. It seemed so long ago.

"No. We're going to see an alchemist."

I look down at the dessert cradled in my lap, his one.

I was not stupid. I knew what my mother said and I knew there was so much truth in her warnings. Running my fingertips over the plastic cover over the dessert a part of me wanted to rebel against her and everything I knew, to believe that maybe all Guardians weren't the same. But I couldn't disrespect Eddie like that. Instead I could let them believe I trusted them. I glance over at Dimitri…no I couldn't trust anyone. I had to survive.

/

Hey guys! I am so sorry this one took so long but I've been working more than usual to cover someone. I aim to have one up at least every week.

I just want to note that I do find it difficult sometimes to voice Rose as someone who is so unfamiliar to mundane things and even though she is a vulnerable character I am trying to show that she has fire in her. So if you have any advice or feedback on that please feel free to comment (feel free to comment in general :D ) . I keep trying to remind myself to keep pace with the story and supress all this witty remarks that Rose would throw out there. She needs to grow as a person and I hope your all patient with me as a writer, I am no Richelle Mead!

* I have never been to Tuscon so the description is very vague...

Also I'm trying to catch up on Bloodline, currently on the Indigo Spell :D Hope you all liked Silver Shadows!


	8. Chapter 8

I couldn't stop staring out the window. You would think I'd never seen trees before but these were different, these were Montana trees that had the richest green leaves and then the trees gave way to miles of emerald carpet that stretched out to the mountains that lined the horizon. It was beautiful. I wanted to stand still out there, on the grass, surrounded by the green and cool, clean air with the powder blue sky above me. The idea seemed peaceful.

The road dips downward and I turn away from the window. My lips part, we were driving into another city…or maybe it was a town. The buildings were all mostly the same height and shape and aligned neatly in the streets. There weren't as many winding paths for the car to follow. We pass the first building and I expect to feel something like I had crossing the ward boundaries but I don't.

There were people. People on the streets, people ducking in and out of buildings, standing on the streets smoking and crossing in front of our car when we paused in front of the red light People different shapes and sizes, not gaunt or nervous looking but young and old and in between.

"What are you thinking?" Dimitri asks, breaking the silence we'd held for twenty three minutes.

I play with the pendant and answer quietly. "Who are the alchemists?"

"They're a group of people who believe in keeping our world away from human society. We don't know too much about them except what they allow us to know. They help us conceal activity from the humans. They are academics and somewhat religious."

My understanding was still muddy. I knot my fingers together and make myself to go on. "Humans don't know about Moroi and Guardians because of alchemists?"

"Yes. Alchemists cover our tracks."

"So…humans don't know about strigoi either?" I think about the body left in the woods and looking out the window I try to imagine the monsters stalking through these streets. I shiver.

"No. Humans don't know anything about us or them. Alchemists have ways of disposing of the bodies or making attacks on humans seem like tragedy's their acquainted with. Vampires are just bedtime stories."

The human world sounded like a bedtime story. A world without vicious blood drinkers, Guardians and fear.

"What do you know of religion?" Dimitri asks, his hand yanking on the stick between our seats.

My first instinct is to lie or to no say anything but I make myself think. I was allowed to think now… to an extent. "It's about…believing in something isn't it?"

He glances over at me and nods. I feel a flutter of joy in my chest.

"Something transcendent, spiritual, a higher being. Most alchemists believe in the religion Christianity but it differs. One thing they all agree on however is the natural order, humanity was created by the divine. Nowhere in the natural order do vampires or their offspring belong."

He turns onto a street where the buildings are smaller with lawns and driveways stationed at every one.

"So they don't like us?"

"They think our existence is an abomination."

"So they really don't like us."

He stops the car the in front of a redbrick house.

"Why are we going to see someone who hates us?" I ask turning to him. He was already watching me.

"Unlike other believers alchemists believe in the pursuit of knowledge and are advanced medically. They'll be able to prescribe something to help your burn and hopefully leave you with no scarring. They don't hate us personally but rather our existence overall."

"Why would they help you?"

"They help us because we may be one evil but the strigoi are a greater one, one that we both work against."

"An alchemist is going to give me medicine because you kill strigoi?" I ask, trying to summarize.

"I didn't explain this very well." He says turning to look at the house. "Alchemists help us because when we work for the same cause. Every interaction is recorded. It's all very formal." He turns back to me and I realize that this time I don't instinctively want to look away. "This is not formal. This is off the books and pretty unorthodox for them."

"So they might not give us medicine?" I guess, the barriers against exhaustion were coming down now and there was bruisey kind of pain behind my eyes.

"Oh he'll help us." Dimitri says, which conflicts with everything he' said.

"Why?" I ask, copying him by unclicking my seatbelt.

"Because I'll tell him to."

I'm struck for a moment by the power in the short sentence and the amount of envy I felt. It's enough time for him to come around to my side of the car and open the door. I hop out into the quiet street.

"You can leave that in the car." Dimitri says gently. He nods down and I look down at the dessert in my hands. Quickly I set it down in my vacated seat.

I must look so greedy…and desperate.

I wrap my arms around myself as he shuts the door. I wondered how many people lived in one house, there had to be at least twenty on this street. The sun was full in the sky and there were white fluffy clouds dotted around the blue but it wasn't anywhere near as warm as Arizona. It was the temperature of a cool night in Arizona but maybe it would get warmer later, at noon when the sun was high in the sky.

Dimitri looks from me to the sky. "The sooner we do this the sooner we can go home and sleep."

He walks toward the house, up the paved driveway and I follow automatically, my mind elsewhere.

_Home. _

**NOUN****: **The place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.

His sharp rap on the door snaps me out of my head. A figure is getting bigger in the frosted glass and I realize the obscure alchemist person was coming down the hall. Anxiety falls over me like ice water and I felt myself shrinking. Dimitri said these people hated us and now were intruding in their house. If I knew anything it was to not aggravate someone who hated you.

Glancing up at Dimitri's unconcerned expression I tried to set my shoulders but it just made my arm twinge angrily. The bruise behind my eyes and the pain advancing in my arm was almost making my face spasm.

The door swings open and I swallow down all the physical discomfort as a boy fills the doorway looking very, very irritated. I notice his hard eyes were a dull blue and immediately drop my gaze.

"Good morning Keith."

"It was." The other man's voice sounds like its being pulled through his teeth. "I wasn't aware we had business today."

"It's unofficial and urgent. Can we come in?"

"Both those conditions warrant a direct message from your boss. And direct compensation."

I hear the door being swung closed and out of the corner of my eye I see Dimitri's arm shoot up. There's a dull thud. I peek up at Dimitri's palm against the half closed door and Keith's outraged expression beyond it.

"You're dealing with me directly."

Keith's nostrils flare. "I want double."

"Fine." Dimitri bites down on the 'f' before the rest of the word trails after it.

Keith walks away from the door and Dimitri pushes it open and motions for me to go inside. I step into the dim hallway taking in how small yet proportioned it was with a dark wooden floor with bare red walls. It's a short hallway and Keith's disappeared around the corner at the end, Dimitri's presence behind me was the only reason I could follow without faltering or freezing. At the end of the hall is a door with glass panels and I glimpse a cooker and counters, a kitchen, and just with a small glimpse I'm comparing to the size I'm used to. It was less than half. This house was like a miniature version of the Ozera's. I turn the corner Keith disappeared around and it opens up into a cosy room with a couch and two arm chairs, this must be the living room.

Keith is sitting on the arm of one of the chairs with his arms folded, glaring at us. I pause and feel the warmth of Dimitri pressing reassuringly against my back. I envied how he had body heat to spare when I was still cold, even inside this house. I wondered if he was just naturally warm blooded or it was because of his long coat.

"What do you want?" Keith demands glaring inches above my head. That was brave.

"Rose needs medical examination and treatment for a burn." For the first time Keith looks at me, his eyes going down and then up. I didn't like it. "I heard you had a female colleague staying with you for a few days, I think that would be more appropriate."

Keith's eyes had made it to my face when he replies. "Mrs Sage is on assignment."

"Can you call her back?"

"No."

"You can't or you won't?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't." Keith says, looking back at Dimitri with a smug expression.

"Because then someone would know you have your hand in a Moroi pocket? Not very ethical."

Keith's expression sobers. "No, Sydney wouldn't say a word. She's important alchemist business and I can't compromise her cover by demanding she run back here for this girl." He glances at me. "Is she anorexic or something?"

What?

"Can you do what you're being paid for without commentary?" Dimitri says with a sharp edge to his voice that makes me want to hunch my shoulders.

"You haven't paid me yet." There's a moment of tense silence as they stare at each other. Keith sighs and stands. "Come through to the back."

I wait and let Dimitri take the lead this time, then follow him through the Dining room into another hallway. There were two doors, one that led out to a small garden and the one Keith goes through. It was a room unlike I'd ever seen. The only thing I recognised was a computer exactly like the one in Master Ozera's study but everything else had me staring. A table laden with tools, glass jars and vials, all filled with different coloured substances, liquid or powdered, one had a mixture of both. On the other side of the room was a high padded looking table, or lounge chair and beside it was a screen with wheels attached. Keith was now behind the wooden desk that held the computer and was clicking away on its keyboard and Dimitri was looking over his shoulder at the screen. There were cupboards with locks and a window behind their heads that I could see the garden through.

This room made me nervous. I knew it was different house, in a different state but it held some similarities to the Masters study. Even the air of the room was the same, how you knew not to touch anything encase you spoiled it.

Keith reaches for a small machine and holds it out to Dimitri. He takes it and slides a small, thin card into it. Dimitri's fingers tap quickly against it and there's a small beep. Keith's shoulders relax.

"Go behind the screen and change into the gown." Keith says to one in particular.

I wait until Dimitri looks at me to confirm that Keith was talking to me. It isn't until he nods that I can make myself move. I do as I'm told, trying to keep my breathing regular.

I was taking my clothes off in a small room with two men in it. One being something I'd feared all my life and the other was something I didn't understand but knew he hated me because of blood. Because I was unnatural and there was no way to appease something like that. No amount of politeness or making myself invisible and then they were hostile to each other and this room was very small and what if they hurt me? What if they held me down on that table? Would anyone hear me screaming?

No, no. I couldn't think like that. I had to hold on to the smallest pieces of evidence that that wouldn't happen. Like how Dimitri was nothing like the other Guardians, or even mean like Spiridon. And he had promised my mother. That promise was carved into his hand.

Behind the screen there was a long shirt hanging up and it was very light and very thin. I toe off the shoes. I pull my arms out of the sweater first so it's still around me as I figure out the shirt. I yank it over my head and pull the gown over me as fast as I can. My knuckles smack the rail in my haste and I bite down on my lip. I hold my breath, waiting for either one of them to say something but neither do. I straighten out the gown and then pull the jeans off.

I stand for a second feeling the cool air of the room on my skin. I was too aware of my underwear and for once the tight bind of the bandages was comforting. At least the gown hung off me…but I still felt exposed. With my eyes down I step out from behind the barrier.

"Alright, sit up on the table." Keith's orders.

I peek up at it and make my way over. Its surface was above my hip. I swallow and hop up on to it. Brown leather shoes appear on the ground and then fingers begin tugging at Dimitri's tourniquet making me wince.

"Careful." Dimitri says and I feel myself relax a little. I had worried he'd left.

Keith sighs irritated but his movements are gentler as he unwraps my wound.

The last layer comes away he inhales sharply. "Jesus. Are those…is that a handprint? How the hell-"

"Details aren't important. Can you treat it?"

"How old is it?"

"About a day. I did the best I could with disinfectant."

"It might scar a little."

I tug the gown neatly under my knees so it's more secure as I hear Keith unscrewing something I imagine is one of the jars and my thoughts are confirmed when he places it next to me. It was a small tub filled with a green looking sludge. The smell of peppermint hits my nose. Keith scoops a mound out on his fingers and that's when I see the damage for the first time. The tan skin of my upper arm was marred by the swollen red skin in the centre of it. Blisters the size of pebbles bubbled out of my skin and where there weren't blisters there were grooves of where her fingers had been. The indents had yellowish look to them, like off meat. I look away, unable to digest the image, and worried if I looked any longer the water my head was swimming in would get start churning.

I find Dimitri standing opposite me, leaning against Keith's desk with his arms folded. His alert eyes are trained on what Keith's work. I gasp as something cold merges with the heat of the burn but just as soon as the stinging starts it'd gone, replaced by a weird cooling sensation that makes the exposed part of burn feel hotter.

I focus on Dimitri's face, the calmness of it and try to make myself feel the same way as Keith applies the rest of the paste. Under the coolness of it is a strange tingling. My arm is going numb.

"She'll need to put this on every morning or night for two weeks." Keith says and he screws the lid back on.

Dimitri's eyes leave his movements and meet mine. Nothing in his expression changes that drastically, only the tightness around his eyes lessens and despite the bindings around my chest some pressure leaves it.

"A fire user did that right?" Keith says and the disgust dripping from his voice makes me look at him. He pushes a blonde lock out of eyes, his lips pressed into a hard line. "It's so disgusting."

"Just get the physical over and done with." Dimitri responds flatly.

From then Keith prods me and taps my knees with an instrument that makes my legs twitch. He takes my weight and my measurements and the whole time no one speaks with the exception of when he was instructing me to do things. Like follow his fingers as he shone a light in my eyes or to open my mouth so he could tap my teeth. Every time the anxiety threatened to rocket up my spine I peeked over at Dimitri who would be watching Keith but always felt my stare. He'd meet it and it would ease me slightly so I could look back down at floor with panic at bay. The worst part was when Keith was measuring my chest. Dimitri's body had looked like a coiled spring, ready to snap into action at any moment. He followed Keith's movements with sharp eyes which Keith was more than aware of. It was hell.

On top of that exhaustion was beating over me in waves. By the time Keith finishes I'm swaying on the spot and have to put a hand on the table to steady myself.

"Well I trust she's going to get proper nourishment from now on?" Keith asks, walking behind his desk. Dimitri only nods. "She needs a rich diet of protein and dairy which should get her riboflavin levels up. I'll print you off a nutrition plan. Make her eat at least five times a day, the basic three meals but small and the other two snacks based around the plan."

_Five times?_

"One reason to be thankful you're an abomination." Keith says and I look up at him as he hands a sheet of paper to Dimitri. "You endure better."

"Abominations often have to." Dimitri responds flatly. He looks over his shoulder at me. "Get dressed."

I trudge back behind the curtain and this time I have to hold onto the wall behind me for support as I dress.

"I can only guess where she came from." I hear Keith say quietly as I tug my jeans on. "And you can't bring her ever again. It's bad enough to have risked a trip here at all but bringing a _slave _here. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking you're under our payroll and if you forget that then you can be severely reminded."

"Stop threatening me, I'm saying this or both our benefits. Discretion is the key or this will blow up in all our faces."

"You're the one in danger of re-education. Not us."

There's a sound like something hard thudding against the desk.

"How do you even know about that? That's alchemist business. It has nothing to do with your kind!" Keith's voice is an angry hiss and it wakes me up slightly.

"Do you see how problematic it is to speak about everything you know? I told you details don't matter and yet you've mentioned them. She is not your business, where she came from is not your business and as soon as we leave this whole thing never happened. That will benefit us all. Understand?"

There's no response but the silence conveys admission. Dressed again I step out from behind the curtain. Keith is sitting behind his desk looking more furious than he had when we showed up.

"Do we need pain killers?"

Keith doesn't look away from his computer screen. "The salve acts as a painkiller as well as accelerating the healing process."

Dimitri picks up the jar of the green paste. "Thank you for your help. Victor will be in touch."

"Just get out."

Dimitri nods to the door and I shuffle out with him shadowing my steps. The living room is bathed in bright morning light and it makes my itchy eyes ache more. At the front door Dimitri reaches past me to turn the lock and steps out first, his gaze sweeping the street. I'm so distracted by his Guardian instincts that I miss the next step off the porch and the ground is rushing up to my face.

A hand grabs my left arm and I stumble so I catch myself on my knees.

"Are you alright?" He demands, crouching down beside me. I can only nod, speaking costs too much. "Do you want help to the car?"

I hesitate. The thought of picking myself off the ground right now makes me want to curl up here on the path but I remember how he thinks I'm vulnerable and I can't be. I was on my own now. I shake my head and somehow push myself up and stumble toward the car with Dimitri close to my side the whole time. I didn't have the energy to even tell him I was fine.

He opens the car door for me and without asking this time he knocks my knees out from under me and lifts me into the car seat, placing something in my lap. When he shuts the door my eyes snap open, looking blearily down at the dessert in my lap. I must have blinked but only completed half the process and failed to open them. I shake my head trying to keep alert as he slides into the driver's seat.

"You can sleep now Rose." He says quietly.

I can't. What if something bad happened to me?

"Nothing is going to happen to you. Go to sleep."

The gentle purr of the car and the warmth seeping into my skin diminished any fight left in me. I slipped away into the dark.

/

_Why was I back here again? I didn't belong here._

_The looming staircase rose up above me, a stairwell into the dark. I flinch_ as _high pitched_ _maniac laughter bounces around the tiles and slanting walls. _

_"You can't hide from me Rosemarie." She sings. "I'm coming to get you." _

_I run for the front door but it seems to be getting further away and the ground was tilting in odd angles under my feet so I keep _falling. _Each slam into my knees makes me think they are going to break until finally I can't get up and I'm clawing my way forward. The laughter is getting louder and closer, the hair on the back of my neck standing up and screaming or was I screaming?_

_I finally reach the door and I know if I can make it outside I'll be okay. If I could get away from this place I would be okay. _

_There's a loud bang as boots land in front of my face and I'm being pulled up by my arms, the fingers clamped on me are hot and are burning into my skin. I won't let her do this again, I won't let her hurt me, I won't let my mother pay a price to help me. _

_But when I meet her eyes they aren't her eyes. They are not blazing blue but sinister red, _framed by dark hair. _Dimitri's lips pull back over his long, sharp fangs._

_Now I know I'm screaming. He snarls and yanks my head to the side and agony explodes in my neck._

_And I can still hear her laughing, so loudly it goes hand in hand with my screaming._

_/_

"Rose, Rose, wake up."

There's stiffness in my neck and the menacing scarlet is burning in my mind. A hand clutches my shoulder and automatically I strike out. There's muffled 'umph' as my knuckles connect and glance off something hard which makes my eyes snap open.

Dimitri holds up his hand in a peaceful gesture. He was almost bearing over me as he stood by the open door to my side of the car. "It's just me."

My heartbeat was pulsing in my ears and I sink further down my chair.

"You were having a nightmare and I was trying to wake you."

My eyes dart from his cautious expression to his upheld hand and hold on the clean, red slice in the centre. I swallow and make myself sit up straight, nodding. I should not have fallen asleep. I had to be stronger than this. I fight against the haziness in my head and something slides sideways in my lap. Dimitri's hand catches the dessert before I can. That's good, I'd already ruined one.

"Thank you." I mumble.

"Can you walk? We're here."

It takes a moment for his words to sink in and form meaning. I nod and fumble to undo my belt. Dimitri steps away and I slide out of the car, my knees go weak beneath me and I catch myself against the car.

"Do you want-"

I shake my head which I hope acts to clear it too. He shuts the door and I drag my eyes up from the ground, and they widen by the sight I'm met with. It was a big house. Nowhere near as big as the one back in Arizona but bigger than Keith's had been. It wasn't made of intimidating brick or structured like the Ozera's. It was rectangular and well proportioned, and some of it was grey or smooth, soft white. It was also tall, a balcony jutted out on the second floor and there was another floor above it. The house was bathed in sunlight and around it the jade on the trees gleamed.

Dimitri walks around the car and I notice two others identical to his one parked further up the drive.

"Rose…" Dimitri calls. He was standing patiently on the path that leads to the porch.

To the left the ground turned into a slope that ended in a metal shutter. What was down there? This place was my new minefield. I swallow against the tightness in my throat and trudge after him, the brightness of the morning making my eyes ache. On the porch he flips open a silver keypad and quickly he taps over the keys in a long series that I can't follow. The thing then beeps and lights up green. Dimitri slides a card along the top of it and then reaches for the large grey door that swings open easily. I was willing to bet that without knowing the code the door would be much more difficult to get through.

I follow Dimitri's boots over the threshold, the ground changing from brick to smooth, stone coloured tile. The warmth persuades me to look up as my curiosity was being smothered by exhaustion. It was a huge space, to the right was just one big room, coloured with designs in rich chocolates and cream. There were two couches and an arm chair, a coffee table and along the far wall a TV dominated the centre. Off from this living area was an elegant dining table that seated six. Above it hung three bulbous lights, their shades a sheer goldish colour that made me think when they were turned on they would be dazzlingly bright. Its then I notice just how dim it was in here, especially as the back wall, behind the table was a wall of dark glass.

I blink and strain my eyes trying to determine that it was in fact glass and not just a shiny wall. But yes I could see leaves fluttering on the trees through it, it was glass the same or close to the windows in our cars. Tinted.

A noise like a cupboard being closed grabs my attention and I realize I've been alone in my staring. To my left was an arch way and stepping forward I'm able to peer around the wall. It was a kitchen, an appropriate sized one and Dimitri was currently setting bottles down on the granite counter. I sway to the side and right myself before I can stumble.

Directly opposite is a staircase and I can't help but think how welcoming the carpet looks on it. Mr Dashkov had said I would have a room but I had never let myself think about it. I couldn't even picture it really, it was ridiculous. I would be blessed to sleep on the landing.

"Rose." Dimitri calls. I shuffle into the kitchen and he meets me halfway. His height catches me off guard again so I'm craning my neck back to look at him. "I know you're tired but I want you to drink this before we go to bed."

He holds out a water bottle and I stare stupidly at it before taking it. The ache behind my eyes was expanding and wrapping around my brain like ivy.

"Why?" I hear myself mumble as I pry the cap off.

"When you sleep you become dehydrated and I'm worried you're already too much so."

The bottle top pauses at my lips and I look all the way up at his face. "You're worried?"

His dark eyes are closed doors indicating he was neither going to repeat or confirm what he'd said. Maybe I'd heard wrong. Maybe this was all a dream and I was still lost in a painkiller haze back at the barn. I take as big as gulps as I can manage until the bottles drained and silently he takes it from me. He opens a cupboard under the sink that has a trash can attached to the back of the door and disposes of it. I trudge out of the kitchen after him, wrapping my dead weight arms around myself. Now that my arm wasn't hurting (it was pleasantly cool and numb) there was nothing to anchor me to my head or to make me focus. I just wanted to shut down.

_But I can't, I have to be aware. _

I should have drunk more of his coffee.

"Rose did you hear me?"

I reel back and almost stumble. "Sorry."

Dimitri's hard gaze softens around the edges but only slightly. He was two steps up on the stairs. "It's fine. I just asked can you manage the stairs."

"Yes, I can manage." Because I wasn't vulnerable and how could I say no?

I grip the bannister and begin climbing. My legs were wet water bags with weak joints, I kept expecting to crash to my knees which made me grip the bannister tighter. Dimitri's boots kept pausing on the steps above me and I knew he was waiting for my legs to fail too. I was not vulnerable. I was not a child.

Finally we reach the landing and it's more than dim up here. My mother had said Dhampirs had heightened senses and I wondered if I were human would I be completely blinded by the dark now.

There are two doors that met us at the top of the stairs, one on either side. Dimitri crosses to the one on the left and I follow, sparing a glance down the hall where I can see two other doors and another staircase.

"This will be your room." Dimitri's says quietly, opening the door. A light illuminates and then dims down to a glow.

Dumbly I come to stand beside him in the doorway. It was a big and simply decorated room. There was a huge bed, a bedside table with a lamp, a chest of drawers and a wardrobe. I take another step inside and my feet inside the mistress's shoes sink down into the brown carpet. Beside the wardrobe was another door. Perhaps my room was through there, maybe that's what he meant.

"That's your bathroom. Do you need me to show you how to work the shower? Or can it wait until morning?"

I did another sweep of the room, details starting to register. Three of walls were a very soft green that reminding me of the vast fields we'd see on the way here. The main wall that had the headboard of the bed against it was a cream like downstairs. On the left side, the west wall, was a bay window but the taupe curtains were drawn. The drawers, the table, the wardrobe, the iron wrought headboard were all white too. It reflected outside I think, this room.

This room. This couldn't be _mine_.

"Rose, are you alright?" Dimitri asks, stepping away from the door and toward where I'd drifted to.

"Where do I sleep?" I ask.

"In the bed."

I turn back to the giant thing, laden in a cream duvet with green swirls upon it and four fat pillows. A fist closes around my throat.

"If you need anything." He says in a voice more gentle than he's used all night. "I'm across the hall. Don't be afraid to ask."

The door closes with quiet click.

I swallow thickly and reach out toward the bed, expecting it to disappear at my touch. The white iron barrier at the foot of the bed is cool and sturdy under my hands. My breath catches and my lungs tremble and I can't help it, tears spill over my cheeks. My hand leaves the iron and wanders to the duvet, it felt almost wrong to do so, to explore it encase I spoiled it.

There's a soft pat as a tear hits its surface.

_Stop it._

I wipe at my cheeks. I couldn't waste time crying over it. If I got to sleep here then I had to make the most of it, I had to appreciate it because tomorrow might be very different. I toe easily out of her too big shoes and gingerly sit down. It sinks a little beneath me and my eyes close, and it's like the softness is coaxing me to lie down, to curl up and let dreams tug me away.

I'm about to push myself deeper into its centre when I notice the bottom of her jeans are dirty. I hadn't been able to roll them up as my mother had after changing at Keith's. I bite my lip and then pop the button that was almost around my waist. I wriggle out of the trousers and fold them up, placing them on the bedside table so they would be close in the morning. I put her shoes neatly on the floor beside it.

I hurry back over to the door where beside it on the wall is the light switch and I try not to think about my bare legs. It was a round thing and I realized it rotated too. I test it and the light above me dims further and blazes up when turned the other direction. I push it inward and the light clicks off altogether.

Walking back to the bed I think I must be half asleep already, poised on the edge of dreaming. I peel the duvet back and crawl between the covers. Soft just so soft and firm and so much covers. I cocoon myself in the green and cream, tucking one pillow under my head. No one could find me in here. I could get lost in this bed and never find my way out. I wouldn't mind. No bad dreams or bad people could find me. Although my mother did and I fell asleep with her pendant pressing against my heart, wishing she was here pressing against my back.

/

I'm not sure what wakes me. I'm buried under soft rocks and a thick tent. I push up onto my elbows, disorientated and confused by the colours. It was quiet, it was so quiet. I pull at the canopy over my head and push the pillows aside until I surface. I'm confused and panic for a moment until my mind catches up and I remember everything dazedly.

I rub the sleep from my eyes and look around again. I was halfway down the bed and I'd somehow dragged two pillows down with me. The duvet was all pulled and piled up around me as if I'd kept it close in unconscious fear it would run away. I'd made a mess.

I untangle myself and crawl to the edge of the bed, fully aware now of the pain in my abdomen that was the reason I'd woke. At least I hadn't wet myself.

Cautiously I open the door Dimitri had said was a bathroom. In the dimness I see toilet ahead and to the left a bath and a shower, paired beside each other. I flick the switch next to my shoulder and blink as the light comes on. I step inside and close the door behind me, it starting to dawn on me how fortunate I was that I didn't have to venture far to relieve myself. Even if I were allowed to wander around the house I don't think I could.

Halfway across the dark tiles that felt warm under my feet something moves out of the corner of eye and I let out a short scream. Made short because I stumble back, my knees connecting with the bath and giving out under me so I fall back into the white tub, smacking my head on the side.

I scramble to sit up, looking around the small bathroom and finding it empty. I was alone. Then I notice it, a few inches up higher and poised above the sink. A mirror.

The first time I'd seen myself and I'd fell over screaming. Somehow this made the whole idea less exciting than it had been back in Arizona.

"Idiot." I mutter and climb out of the bath, casting the mirror a wary look.

What if I was really that…ugly? Or frightening. A mere glance had caused me an injury so what was looking going to achieve?

I rub my head and glare again at the mirror that was proudly reflecting the bathroom. My bladder reacted angrily to the trauma and with my eyes down I scurry over to the toilet. Afterward I approach the sink without lifting my eyes and wash my hands.

Why was I so scared? I suppose it was like meeting someone you'd heard or known about your whole life but never seen. But it was me… I knew me. I'd known me my whole life. It wasn't like I was meeting someone who would then reject me or hurt me in any way… but except I could. I could reject me. But I had to know, my mother always told me that knowledge was the best thing you could ever own.

I look up.

I exhale shakily and in the reflection does the same, drawing my eyes to her lips. They were full and slightly pouty, a pale pink but in the middle you could see where they had been bitten nervously. Her top lips defined with a soft bow. I lean in closer, eyeing her guardedly and she looks back me just as wary. I can see now my lips are slightly chapped and her tongue pokes out unconsciously. I travel up and examine her eyes, they were almost too big in her face and the colour of the bedroom carpet. I try to find some recognition within them but in their frame of dark lashes they become even more estranged as her eyes search mine.

I could see however the things my mother worried about. She was kind of pretty. It lurked in her eyes even though they were cautious and her skin was smooth and clear looking, although marred by some scratches from the incident in the woods.

I was more tanned than I realised, my face kissed more by the sun than my arms had been. That would change being here where the sun was weaker. I reach up and bring her braid over my shoulder, looking down at it between my fingers rings as a connection. I look up at my reflection, this is me. My hair was at least familiar to me. The ends were broken and a little wild looking but the actual rope of the braid had a little shine to and felt soft. Although the way I had slept had pulled a hunk loose and it sat oddly behind my ears. I take off the tie and begin running my fingers through my dark locks. The motion was soothing and I start to relax a little. Soon my hair is hanging in loose, thick waves. I turn to the side and see how it hangs almost all the way down my back.

I might be unsure of my feelings toward my appearance but I did like my hair. I felt like I could hide behind it. My mother never let me wear it down anymore, it was impractical and I wouldn't let her cut it but maybe here it would be okay.

I bring a lock of it forward and remember how I did so in the shower. My gaze drops to my chest. Her sweater is rumpled and my chest looks a little strange, an odd shape or maybe it was because I knew I'd been flatted out. I mean it wasn't so odd that it drew attention but I couldn't help but think I looked a little unbalanced. My hips were as wide as my shoulders and the sweater was thin and fitted me neatly which showed the dip of my waist. My collarbones jutted out within the V neckline. My chest just looked odd…but maybe it was just me being stupid. It was better this way. Safer.

I couldn't take the bandages off now because I couldn't be sure I would be able to get them back on if someone came looking for me.

I wonder what time it was.

I pull the sweater up a little so between it and my underwear my hipbones jut out. My nose wrinkles, how could…I didn't understand why my mother worried so much about me. Who would find all these juts appealing? There was something wrong about how they stood out and I remember how Keith had looked at me yesterday, like I was a sick person. I pull the sweater back down and leave the bathroom.

I grab her jeans and pull them back on, taking more time to try and roll the bottoms so they won't fall down. I make the bed as best I can trying not to wish or think about sleeping in it again. Wanting didn't bring you things.

I sit down, running my hand through my hair trying to decide what to do now. Do I just wait until someone comes? Would Dimitri come and get me? And then what do I do? I think about what Mr Dashkov had said on the plane about how I was an _employee_ now and that he wanted me to take care of his home. And cook.

I go over to the window and pry back the curtains. It was dark outside which meant it was their daytime and mine now, so were they already up? Were they expecting breakfast? I bite my lip trying to decide what to do. What if Mr Dashkov expected it to be made and no one had come to tell me?

It hit me then how there was nobody to turn to anymore. Nobody to help or tell me what to do.

The anxiety begins to spread through my blood and it drives me toward the bedroom door. I could sit and wait to do something wrong or I could at least try and get it right.

I cross the hall and pause outside the door, his door. I raise my hand and hold it there. What if I woke him up? Wouldn't he be md?

_I very rarely get mad. _

I knock.

A minute passes in which I shift from foot to foot. I could always go down stairs and scope out the kitchen and prepare to make breakfast. I knew basic meals, I'd watched my mom make them over and over but dinner was a grey area. I hope they have cook books but then how I would I explain I could read. Maybe I could do it in secret or –

The door opens and I look up in surprise.

Dimitri is standing in grey drawstring pants and a white t-shirt that isn't pulled down all the way, showing the indentation of his hip and his tan skin. His hair is also a mess. I look away feeling like I've caught him indecent. My cheeks flame.

What the hell was wrong with me?

"Rose?" He says, his voice tainted by sleep. I peek up at him and look away again. The sudden urge to laugh takes hold of me.

He clears his throat and the sleep disappears from his tone. "Is something wrong? Does your arm hurt?"

I shake my head. "I just wanted to know what to do. What I should do…should I make breakfast?"

"What time is it?" he says, turning away and venturing back into his room. He goes to his bedside table and retrieves a small object I recognise as his phone. I notice that a book is also lying on his nightstand. There were also books on the floor, stacked neatly and I could spy a shelf lined with books too.

My nosiness is interrupted by his white t-shirt blocking my view as he comes back to the doorway. I pretend to examine my socks.

"I suppose we should wake the others soon or they'll oversleep. Ben should be up already."

"So I should make breakfast?" I say eagerly, happy there would be something I could do.

"Yes we should." He says moving toward the stairs.

"Isn't it what I'm supposed to do?" I ask feeling a little panicked. "You don't have to help me. I don't need help."

He looks over his shoulder. "I know. But it would be a lot easier if I showed you where everything is instead of you coming to ask me in five minutes."

"The kitchen isn't that big."

He raises an eyebrow and I'm struck by how the remark just slipped out. I'm about to apologise when he speaks.

"Well to be honest I don't like being babied." He starts down the stairs again. "I've been making my own meals for twenty years and I've been sternly warned by my grandmother another woman is not allowed to."

I follow him down trying to make sense of that. My attention is diverted by the lightness of downstairs and I look over to see the glass is no longer dark but clear. There were lights on outside and through the glass I could a large garden.

"The glass acts sort of like light sensitive glasses. In the sun the glass turns darker but as soon as it gets darker it becomes clear again." Dimitri says, having waited for me at the bottom.

"Odd." I mumble meaning far more than the glass.

"I think it's smart. Creates the illusion of openness and means Victor can enjoy a view of the garden he and Natalie work on."

Natalie, Mr Dashkov's daughter. I follow Dimitri into the kitchen wondering about the other girl and when she'd be coming. Maybe she was already here.

Dimitri shows me around the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards and displaying its contents. I'm fascinated by the large, silver storage box he calls the fridge. He opens up both its doors and then describes how you can fill a tank with water and ice that can be dispensed on the outside of the door. Beside the fridge is a one door model that looks similar and he says it's the freezer. It was crazy how they had compacted the houses food to these two units and didn't have a whole room for them.

"So, what do you think?" Dimitri asks, bringing me up short on my thoughts. Was it obvious how engrossed I was by the cooling box?

"About breakfast." He says after a moment.

Oh yeah.

Slowly I wander over to the fridge and pull it open. The door is much heavier than I thought it would be.

"What does Mr Dashkov like?" I ask quietly.

"He's not fussy. He isn't allergic to anything and doesn't stock anything he finds distasteful."

With the exception of a blonde Guardian I think.

"Eggs?" I venture.

"That will do."

The coolness of the fridge made me aware of the heat radiating off him beside me.

"Do Spiridon and Ben like eggs too?" I ask as he plucks them off the shelf.

"Spiridon will eat anything, even his own burnt concoctions when he and Ben don't order in."

"What about you?" I take four more eggs off their holder and shut the fridge.

"You don't have to worry about me."

I set the eggs down next the others on the counter, a flare of irritation in my stomach. I did have to worry or didn't the understand that? I had been given my instructions and he was making following them difficult.

"Do you like eggs?" I say, trying to mask my stupid emotions.

"Yes."

So then I could make them anyway without it being difficult. "Is this enough for three Guardians and Mr Dashkov?"

Dimitri sets the mixing bowl he'd pulled out of the cupboard down with a startling thud.

"It's more than enough Rose." He says flatly. "And call him Victor."

That was more abrupt than I'd been expecting and it squashes out any confidence I had in talking to him. I start cracking eggs into the bowl and mixing them as Dimitri heats the skillet on the stove. He also turns on the oven, showing me which dial to use which seemed obvious to me, and greases a tray before laying bacon on it.

"Would you like Orange juice or milk?" He asks as I pour the mixture into the skillet.

I peek over at him, the refusal ready to tip off my tongue but the look he gives me says that I was given two options and declining isn't one of them.

"Milk please." I mumble and pick up the wooden spoon to stir the eggs. The smell of bacon was filling up the kitchen and I begged my stomach not to growl.

"Remember you're allowed access to the kitchen at any time. You don't have to ask." He says putting the glass down beside me. "You heard yesterday that you have to increase your diet so it would make it much easier for you to be comfortable making yourself meals when you want to."

Hesitantly I lift the glass to my lips and sip my milk. I could feel him watching and I hoped it earned some approval. I give the eggs a stir and take another gulp, almost forgetting his gaze and relishing in the milk.

"I'll go and wake the others." Dimitri says. He stoops to check the bacon and then leaves.

I finish my glass. How bizarre this is, to be cooking or doing the bare minimum of cooking with a guardian who gets irritated by my inability to accept access to things that are not mine. I wonder what my mother had to cook for the breakfasts and if she, Mary and Meredith had to prepare for all the new guardians.

I push the thoughts of my mother away. I couldn't deal with that yet…or ever. I touch the pendant at my throat.

"It smells so good in here." Ben says coming into the kitchen and my heart only jumps instead of threatening to stop. I tuck an escaped tendril of my hair behind my ear and hear him come closer. "Looks great, Rose."

"I smell bacon and bacon makes me excited." A voice carols loudly and there's a pounding as someone comes down the stairs. A moment later Spiridon rounds the corner and his hair that had been sticking up yesterday is lying flat, flopping into his eyes. He looks younger. "It is nearly ready?"

"Nearly." I answer quietly, giving the eggs another push around the pan.

"Here." Ben says, opening a cupboard and pulling out plates.

"Why don't you boys stop hovering over Rose and set the table." Mr Dashkov's voice suggests and I turn to see him standing in the entry. He wasn't in a suit but in his cord trousers and light blue shirt look just as smart. "Is there any coffee?"

Spiridon and Ben file out with cutlery and other things they'd taken from the cupboards. Mr Dashkov comes to my other side and flicks on the coffee machine Dimitri had pointed out to me earlier.

"Would you like a cup dear?" I shake my head. I wasn't ready to try that stuff again. "It's so nice to have someone preparing a proper meal for us. Thank you."

My cheeks start to heat and all I can do is nod.

"Dimitri does try and make sure we eat properly but he can't be responsible for feeding boys are always alternating between take outs and I'd be lying if I said I didn't indulge with them" He chuckles to himself. "Three grown men who can only make as much as a sandwich between them, disgraceful. The exception is Thanksgiving. I make a wonderful roast and cities have actually fallen in efforts to steal my late wife's stuffing recipe. Ah Dimitri, coffee?"

"Always." Dimitri replies making me jump. He kneels down beside me to open the oven and take out the tray.

"IS IT READY YET?" Spiridon yells from the other room.

"Don't take him his plate. He hasn't let us have our first cup before becoming tedious." Mr Dashkov says and despite his words there's warmth in his words.

I take the skillet off the hob and Mr Dashkov wordlessly moves aside so I can spoon eggs onto the plates. I just about get an even amount on all and Dimitri uses a spatula to transfer the bacon.

"We just have to wait on the toast." Dimitri says.

"I'll take in the juice and some glasses." Mr Dashkov says.

"On it." Ben declares having come in unnoticed and opening the fridge. He and Mr Dashkov balance the glasses between them and leave the kitchen.

Wordlessly Dimitri butters toasts and hands it to me to slice on the plates.

"Do you want one slice or two?" He asks and that when I realize we have five plates. Not four.

"One." I murmur. He slides bread into the toaster.

He leaves my side to retrieve a bowl and I hear him rustling around behind me.

"I want you to try and eat this too." He says coming back. I look at the bowl in his hands that had some weird brown mixture in it.

"What is it?" I say, my nose wrinkling.

"Oatmeal. You need the fibre and the nutrients. Just eat what you can."

It looked like mushed up bread.

"You can put sugar on it. A little bit."

The toast pops and he puts down the bowl to butter it and hands it to me. I set it on the plate, my plate, and slice it. Dimitri lifts two plates and I copy, following him into the large room and over to the dining table where the three men were laughing about something. Spiridon stops whatever he's saying as he catches sight of us and he smiles brilliantly. He really did get excited about food. Dimitri sets plates down in front of Mr Dashkov and Spiridon who say their thanks and I set one in front of Ben and the other where cutlery is set.

"Thanks Rose." Ben smiles and I automatically begin to smile back. Then I stop myself and scurry after Dimitri back to the kitchen.

He was putting the pan into the sink.

"I can do that." I say quickly.

"I already have."

He takes up my plate and the steaming mug Mr Dashkov poured. "Grab your oatmeal."

I look anxiously at the mess on the counter top and the greasy baking tray.

"Rose. It can wait." He says flatly.

I do as I'm told and grab the bowl of mush. I follow him back to the table and he sits down opposite Spiridon where I'd put the other plate. He sets my plate on the place beside him. I hesitate before taking the seat feeling more self-conscious than I ever have, more so than when I had the meal on the plane yesterday.

"These eggs are awesome." Spiridon says.

"Tremendous." Mr Dashkov agrees.

Dimitri lifts a glass and pours some juice. He hands it to me. "Vitamin C."

Did he know the vitamin and nutrient content of everything? I take a sip and sweetness has me gulping down half the glass.

"Pass the juice Belikov." Ben says.

"Was Keith any trouble?" Mr Dashkov asks Dimitri who shakes his head and takes a drink from his mug.

I lift my toast and nibble on it.

"Was he helpful?"

"Yes. Rose has to eat her standard three meals and an additional smaller two." At the mention of my name I stop nibbling. Spiridon and Ben were discussing something and people I didn't know and weren't paying attention.

"And her arm?"

"He gave her a salve to apply every night. Might scar a little."

"What about dental?"

"Everything fine."

"You don't know how lucky you are." Mr Dashkov says turning to me and I freeze. "Sadly every time I got to the dentist it never ends happily. Do eat up dear, before it gets cold."

I lift my fork and try my best to ignore everybody else as I spear some eggs. When I was little my mother had snuck me some off the pan but that was years ago. I take a bite and all the times I spent sat on a high stool watching my mother cook surface in my mind. Dimitri squirts sauce onto his plate and then offers it to me. I take it.

"Did you manage to get through to Natalie last night?" Dimitri asks Mr Dashkov.

"Yes I did. She's having a wonderful time, I worried at one point she may pass out because she wouldn't pause to draw breath. They've decided to stay on a little longer. The girls are quite taken with Paris. I am glad they are having fun but it does poise us with a bit of a problem…"

The saltiness mixed with a smoky taste dances over my tongue as I chew on a piece of bacon.

"Good tip." Spiridon says over the table at me making me still. His mouth is half full and yet he manages to talk around it. "Make a sandwich out of it all. Unreal."

"Do you do that at restaurants? Tell people how to eat?" Ben asks.

"I enhance their experience."

"I can imagine."

"I'm not too familiar with women's… essentials. You have sisters, are you any more in the know?" Mr Dashkov is asking Dimitri who shakes his head.

"I could run out and get basics. Shower gels, shampoo and such."

"Maybe Rose could go with you?"

Dimitri only moves his head slightly but it indicates a no. I tear off a piece of toast and pair it with some eggs. Spiridon was right, it was good. It didn't mean I liked him any better.

I finish my eggs and one slice of bacon before my stomach begins to protest. It might not want more but I did….and I still had that oatmeal stuff to eat too. I push my plate away slightly to make room for the bowl.

"Are you done with that?" Spiridon asks and I jump back in my seat. Beside him Ben is shaking his head and watching him with an exasperated expression. Dimitri and Mr Dashkov have also stopped murmuring.

"Leave her be." Dimitri says.

"But she's done." Spiridon replies motioning to my plate. "She's abandoned her bacon."

"_She's abandoned her bacon."_ Ben repeats, closing his eyes as if the whole thing causes him pain.

Spiridon looks at me and his blue eyes are wide. "Please can I have your bacon?"

I nod just to stop him looking at me. He doesn't hesitate and reaches across to spear the meat with his fork.

"Pig." Ben comments and Spiridon chews the whole strip, not bothering to cut it up or even put it on his plate.

"Yes it is." He mumbles.

Mr Dashkov is staring at him as if he's never seen him before. Somehow I doubted Spiridon acted any different and it was just not something someone as refined as Mr Dashkov got used to.

"My nephew has better manners than you do." Dimitri says, taking another gulp of coffee. "And he's a toddler."

Spiridon grins across the table.

Dimitri looks at me from the corner of eye. "Do you want sugar?"

I look down at my oatmeal goop. I think it needed all the help it could get… and I wanted sugar. I nod and Dimitri reaches to the centre of the table and lifts a small bowl of it I hadn't even noticed. I sprinkle half a teaspoon over it.

"Right, today's business then." Mr Dashkov says and the effect around the table is instant. They all seem to sit up straighter. The smirk falls off Spiridon's face and he becomes focused on his boss. "We need to follow up leads to the circle, a contact in Berlin I believe. Ben how is your German?"

"Excellent." He responds evenly, the statement more fact than lack of modesty.

I scoop up portion of the goop and work up my courage. I take a bite. It was weird. Sweet. Not awful. Not amazing.

"Also we need to contact Natasha. Hopefully Christian has reached her by now. I can only imagine the aggro she is going to get. Then I must follow up with Alexander. I think he has some business at the Academy this week so hopefully we can arrange a meeting. We need more cabinet meetings organised. Then I must confirm with Ellen Kirova about the founders ball so I contact the caterers and such. Is there anything else I've forgotten?"

"Alice." Ben prompts.

"Check in with Hans on the Ozera's?" Spiridon suggests.

"Dimitri already did that last night and yes I need a session with Alice. Today if possible." Mr Dashkov says, drumming his fingers against his lips. "Well, we have enough to occupy us for now. I really hope this lead is plausible. I'm beginning to think Zemy is nothing more than a concocted figure"

The third spoonful of oatmeal is the last. I can't manage anymore or my body will start rejecting it and I really do not want to be sick.

Ben, Spiridon and Mr Dashkov stand up simultaneously startling me.

"Thank you for breakfast Rose." Mr Dashkov smiles. "Dimitri could you show her around the house, how to work everything and then come up to my office?"

"Of course."

"See you both in a little while."

Spiridon and Ben have already disappeared, leaving their plates behind and I'm glad I have my job presented to me. I drink the last of my juice, my gulp and the crunch of Dimitri's toast is the only noise.

After a moment of debating I set my bowl on the plate and stand up. I balance them as I collect Ben's and Spiridon's too.

"I could ring the head guardian stationed at Ozera's if you wanted." Dimitri says and I stare at him across the table bewildered. "You could speak to your mother."

I swallow and try to clear my head before I dropped the plates. Why was he always throwing me off?

"No thank you."

"It's no trouble."

"It's less trouble not to." I say, sharper than I intended. "Sorry." I walk away as fast as I can without dropping everything.

I make it to the sink and when I turn he's followed carrying a good lot of what was left.

"I was going to do it." I say.

"I know. It's faster this way though."

"I could manage."

"I know you could."

"Do you?" I inhaling deeply and forcing myself to hold eye contact.

He returns my look levelly. "Yes."

"I don't like being babied either."

"I can tell. I wouldn't want to give you a real reason to punch me."

Before my brain can get tangled up in the hazy memory of waking up in the car yesterday, I defend my argument. "You said I was vulnerable."

"Everybody is vulnerable to something." He responds immediately and puts the dishes on the counter. "You're naive Rose. You are bright and pay attention to everything around you but you are vulnerable. Your world was a very small, rigid place before and now it has expanded to be bigger than all of us. You will literally have access to the whole world in a few months and we need to prepare you for it."

I hadn't expected so many words or words that weighed a lot. I just stare at him and he stares back.

"What makes you vulnerable?"

He leans back as if my question had pushed him. He inhales and then nods behind me. "I'll leave you to the dishes. I have a phone call to make and I'll leave the salve in your room."

And with that he strides out of the kitchen leaving me standing there completely astounded by everything. Maybe it was better when nobody spoke to me because it gave me no openings to be so utterly stupid. I clear the rest of the table and fill the sink up. Letting my mind shut off and give over to the rhythmic motions of my hands in hot soapy water.

/

Why do I never end a chapter where I want to? I think I bang on too much about describing rooms, that'll quieten down soon when events take much more focus.

Thank you for all the supportive reviews J And I left one myself with a little spoiler …not much. I've vowed not to crack and reveal spoilers.

Now let's play house.

Ps. Sorry if there's spelling errors, I'll freak out and fix them later.


	9. Chapter 9

Dimitri doesn't come back downstairs in the time it takes to wash all the dishes or in the time I dry and put them away. His was either still making his phone call or I had annoyed him so much with my questions he was ignoring Victors request to show me around the house.

I hope it wasn't the latter.

I wander out of the kitchen and into the living room. With nobody else around I take the time to look at everything in full and notice what I hadn't last night. My hand trails along the back of one of the chocolate leather sofa's as I study the pictures on the wall.

One captured a man and woman standing arm in arm at the top of some steps, white fragments raining down around them. The woman wore a simple but yet elegant white dress, fitted expertly to her body and I couldn't help but marvel over the outline of her figure. Her chest was modest but pert. I look closer at the man she was smiling adoringly at and realize it was Mr Dashkov, much younger and looking like the happiest man alive. I couldn't imagine him smiling like that but then again I'd only known him a matter of hours.

The other photographs are in colour. A green eyed baby stares out at me from a woman's arms, it's the lady from the other photo and that's the last photo she appears in. The others feature Mr Dashkov and little dark haired girl with big green eyes the same shade as his. The little girl must be the baby, she must be Natalie.

The rest of the photos show the little girl getting taller and older. Beside a Christmas tree with a huge grin on her face, another in formal clothes that tickle some recognition at the back of my mind and in the last Mr Dashkov appears with her as they sit at a table with four other people, a man and woman who had that air of unity about them, marriage, and a boy and girl. The boy had some resemblance to the man where the girl looked very much like the woman so it was obvious they were their parents. They were all very nice looking but there was something more eye drawing about the girl. Her hair sat in pretty blonde curls over her shoulders and unlike the others she wasn't looking out of the picture. She was looking at her companions, her expression full of affection.

How nice it must be to have someone care that much about you. They were lucky and she was lucky. These photos were nothing like the cold one's in the Ozera's where the people captured stood stiffly or smiled without it touching their eyes.

My eyes drift to baby Natalie in her mother's arms. There was love in these photos. A sensation pricks my eyes and I turn away from the pictures.

I pad round the rest of the living area admiring the textures and fixtures.

I mosey over to the glass wall and look out at Mr Dashkov and his daughter's garden. It was all lit up by fairy lights that are draped between the trees or around their bodies like ivy. Cylinder lights were spiked into the ground between rose bushes and other flowers, illuminating the reds, purples, white, yellow and blues of all the petals around the garden. It was magical looking and I decide that this much perfection must have a touch of magic. Mr Dashkov or Natalie had to be an earth user or maybe they both were.

I look up to where the glass reaches the ceiling. How was I going to get up there to clean? I hope they had ladders… or I would have to balance a chair on Dimitri or something.

I giggle to myself and then sigh. I hope he isn't too mad at me, no, irritated. He didn't get mad apparently. Thinking about it I guess it was sorta true because even when he threatened Keith or Mistress Ozera he'd done so in a quiet, controlled voice. He had hardly shown any emotion except maybe concern but it was more…practical concern than emotional. I wonder what it would be like to see Dimitri emotional. That's if he was capable of extreme emotion, emotions seemed a bit useless to someone like Dimitri who had to think and calculate all the time. Had to always be calm and assessing. But Spiridon and Ben joked around…

Why was I thinking like I had known these people for a great length of time? Dimitri could be just as lively as the other two for all I knew and was just tired or didn't find dealing with me particular amusing. That was believable. Although as I cross the room looking out at the midnight garden I couldn't accept that Dimitri was anything like Spiridon and Ben.

I think Dimitri is a secret.

I turn into the hall that's behind the stairs, feeling at ease wandering around by myself, and find three doors. The one closest looked completely normal but the other two had silver keypads beside them and I guess the one on the right led out into the garden. Why was a door to the garden locked like that?

_So no one can get in…or get out._

A coldness sinks down into my stomach.

I turn and look at the front door across the foyer. I needed a code for it too. I didn't have any need to be outside where I knew it was colder but I didn't like the idea of not being able to get out. I suppose it wasn't that much different than being kept inside the barn… that made me feel worse. At least there were others in there. At least I had my mother. I push her away and look at the door closest to me on the left, it had no keypad. I reach out for the handle and pull it open.

A washing machine, a dryer and utensils for cleaning. Well I guess I'd found my own kind of office. I wonder where in the house Mr Dashkov's is and when he'd prefer I'd clean it. When he slept probably. I close the door disappointed I hadn't discovered something more interesting.

I could go nosy in the fridge and see if –

I yelp and jump back.

Dimitri was leaning against the banister watching me.

"How do you do that?" I demand as I mentally tell my heart to calm down.

"Do what?"

"Sneak up like that?"

"Guardian training. I was going to start giving you the tour but it seems you've started it yourself."

I flush and bite down on the instinct to tell him I was bored and he was taking forever.

"I finished the dishes."

"Good."

We stand staring at each other. I had the feeling he was waiting for something and I began to rack my brain for something else I was meant to have done but I come up short.

His face was infuriatingly blank giving nothing away. I should apologise for snooping or not knowing what he expected me to know.

"What?" I blurt out.

Oh god.

He raises an eyebrow. "I'm just waiting for you to ask, instead of having to push you to ask. I think you'll learn quicker that way."

I look down at my, her, socks.

Was he teasing me or did he know the questions bouncing around in my head? If he'd been watching me being nosy then maybe he did. He was intuitive or I was just obvious in my prying. It could be a trick to reprimand me.

I inhale and decide to trust him. "Why are there locks on the doors? I mean more locks. I mean the keypad thing…"

"Extra precaution." He answers without hesitation.

He pushes away from the bannister and walks toward me. He's changed his clothes. Now he wore dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt and his boots.

"Victor is bit of a figure right now, trying to push for change. Sometimes people react too strongly to things they don't want to hear or feel threatened by change. So that in turn puts more of a threat on Victor. There are three guardians' here and we have the ward boundaries like every Royal household does but better safe than sorry."

I blink. "You're worried the house will be attacked?"

He looks back at me steadily, unconcerned. "It's been tried before but they didn't get past the wards."

"And if they did." I begin, trying to process the fact that people or monsters could be roaming the perimeter of the wards, whose protection was invisible and made me doubt they worked. "They couldn't just break down the door or break the glass wall?"

A glass wall seemed really stupid now.

"The glass is reinforced so no human or ammunition could break it. Strigoi can't touch it because it has earth forged within it, the element closest to nature and life. Strigoi are the undead. They can't stand it."

"And the doors?"

"Would buy us time." He says walking over to the door on the left and punching in a code quickly. He takes a card from his pocket and swipes it across the top. The keyboard lights up green and he pulls open the heavy door. "To get down here." He cocks his head toward the entrance and I can see the top of a staircase. "First stop on the tour."

He begins to descend and after a moment I follow.

The stairs lead down into a great expanse of space, one I wasn't expecting. There were four more cars down here, all lined up neatly facing a metal shutter and I realize it's the back of what I'd seen yesterday.

Two cars were sleek and flattened out. One is silver and the other black. How could they be safe so low to the ground? I wanted to find out. The other two, navy and red, were caught between the jeeps size and the sleek cars. They looked a lot safer.

"Victors garage. Ben spends a lot of time down here tinkering with the cars or with weapons he's trying to develop." Dimitri says, standing by the sleek black car.

I cast my gaze around. At the other side I see a work bench layered with tools and metal parts. There's also another computer, its screen wide and thin.

Dimitri's hand is running over the roof of the car delicately, as if it were a cat.

"Is that your favourite one?" I ask quietly.

He hums in response and then turns to point toward the work bench. "Over there is a hidden door that leads to what is called a panic room. Its walls are infused with earth too to prevent strigoi getting through and it would take a lot for a being with considerably less strength to get in. Even with tools. We can either hide in there until the assailants leave or we can flee. Both situations would require good number of attackers."

"Why?" I ask turning away from my inspection of the red car. It was cute and it reminded me of a lady bug.

"There might only be three of us but we are very skilled."

I think back to the manor and the Guardians laying in the yard unconscious. No others had come which meant they couldn't and were probably unconscious somewhere else. It had always felt like there were so many Guardians at the Ozera's, always there when you turned around, always watching, always ready to punish.

It seemed impossible that three could have put them all out of action.

"You would have to be really stupid to try and break into this house." I finally say.

"Very."

The chill from down here skitters up my back.

"Let's go back upstairs." He says.

I try to get back up the stairs as quickly as I can but my thighs begin to burn with effort and a rubber band tightens around my lungs. When I reach the top I'm doing the best I can not to gasp and drop to my knees and kiss the ground. The door closes behind me and there's a quiet but secure beep.

"Have you had any water this morning?"

Opening my mouth would probably lead to wheezing so I shake my head instead, trying to keep control of deep inhales through my nose. Why was my body acting like this? Lugging sacks from the field to the storage shed never made me like this and they were so heavy.

That's when I felt it, today's breakfast sitting proudly in my stomach. I almost wished it wasn't there.

"I want you to drink as much water as you can. A glass with every meal at least."

I was going to ask why then thought better of it. I was being given rules and I could follow rules.

I glance across at the keypad guarding the door to the magical garden. He crosses over to it and punches in a sequence I can't see. There's a beep of approval and he pulls the door open a fraction before letting go and turning to me.

"Go on ahead. I'll be out in a minute."

And he walks away, leaving me with an open door to the whole world.

I swallow and reach out for the handle.

_Not the world, just the garden. The world isn't my problem yet. I'm not ready for the world. _

My lips part as my fingers close around the handle and I drag in the necessary breath I'd been denying myself in front of him.

A light and charming scent sweeps over me as I pull the door open and colour bursts across my eyes.

The glass may have been clear at night when it was not countering the sun but it had somehow dulled the scene behind it. It was like colours had always been dull before and now they were shining in deep purples and bright reds, healthy greens and pure whites. It made me think of the switch in the room I had slept in last night and how I could make the light blaze if I turned it up. Mr Dashkov and his daughter had made their garden blaze.

The dampness under my feet made me realize I had wandered out into the middle of the lawn, too captivated by the flowers to be cautious. The sky above me is a deep navy, dotted by white sparks and wispy, barely there clouds. I couldn't believe it was the same sky I had always been under. Worked under, had been terrified under, met monsters and Dimitri under.

I wasn't afraid now…now I felt stilled. The stars and the twinkling lights threaded through the bushes and trees add to the magic and my eyes close. I breathe deeply. The light floral scents swirling and mixing around me.

When I open them I instinctively glance to my left. My heart, too lulled into calm, only stills briefly as Dimitri stares back at me.

Wordlessly he holds out a bottle of water and I take it.

"Thank you." I murmur.

"You should have put shoes on."

I look down.

"I don't mind."

The moment I say it I realize I shouldn't have. They were the only pair I had and they weren't even mine. And now they were damp and dirty.

"I hate wet socks." He says, snapping me out of my thoughts. I look up at him, surprised he's told me something so trivial but personal, but he's looking around the flower bed. "Do you like it out here?"

I turn away from studying the planes of his profile to a green spiralling plant. "Yes."

"274847."

My face pinches in puzzlement.

"The code for the door. Come out whenever you like. Just put shoes on." He says and takes a step back toward the house.

From this side the glass wall is a sheet of shiny black.

I follow him back across the lawn and into the house. The door beeps behind me as it closes and gives a sharp click, keeping the world out.

Silently I follow him up the stairs, this time he leads and his pace his slow, I'm not sure if its deliberate or not but I'm glad. I take sips from my water bottle still finding the fullness inside me weird.

"These two rooms you know obviously." He says plainly.

He walks down the landing and I follow.

"We call this room the library." Dimitri says, swinging the door open.

If I had expected a huge room with walls lined with books and ladders to navigate it then I would have been very disappointed. But I hadn't expected it because this house was nothing like the one I'd always known. Their library was just a room the size of the one I had slept in, quite big but not monstrously large. Two walls were rowed with books and there was couch and fireplace. The bay window had padded seating and there was an armchair by it. It looked cosy and welcoming. Not a place where engaging with information was terrifying and forbidden.

"Feel free to borrow what you like. Take care of what you take."

So many books, help I didn't think I would have again. They didn't equal my mother but they were a comfort that I thought I wouldn't have. The only problem was no one was to know I could read… did he know?

I swallow and stare without seeing into the room. Had I slipped up? He was so observant but perhaps he'd taken it as a given because he was surrounded by people that can read and write…but Dimitri didn't seem like the type to take anything as a given… he was too clever.

I drag my gaze away from the bookshelf and to his.

He knew.

He turns away to continue the tour and I mentally slap myself, the physically burn of skin vibrates through my memory as if my mother had been there to physically do it. I had to be more careful.

There were no Others to distract or divide attention, there was only me.

"Victor's office." Dimitri says, indicating the door closest. "It has a door that leads out onto the deck as does the hall."

We pass Victors office and it's clear that the room is not to be entered unless necessary… when was it necessary to clean it though?

Before this can trouble me too much we pass the next flight of stairs and continue down the hallway and the wall to my right changes to glass. The deck Dimitri had mentioned and the balcony I had seen from the driveway yesterday. The deck ran the rest of the hall, as did the glass but in the middle was a door that led out to it. I had an inkling at the back of my mind that deck meant something to do with wood but there was nothing wooden about the deck. There was a table and some comfortable looking chairs and getting closer to the glass I could see the night sky spread out above, stars twinkling peacefully.

I suppose Mr Dashkov went out there to relax or clear his head. It certainly looked like it would work. It would even be lovely in the day but obviously not to him.

"No keypad?"

Dimitri glances at me. "We don't have to worry about anyone falling over, now that Natalie is old enough. Or do I have to rethink the issue?"

"Of course not." I say with more attitude than I should.

The door across the hall opens and Ben steps out. I look from him to Dimitri, to the floor.

"Showing Rose around then?" He says in a bright voice.

Dimitri doesn't speak so I imagine he nods.

"Well my room is pretty tidy but if there's anything lying around just throw it wherever so it's not in your way."

It takes me a moment to work out why I would be throwing his possessions anywhere and then I remember the purpose in which I'm here for.

"Oh and the ah, teddy bear isn't a personal touch. Ex-girlfriend…should really throw it away."

"It's only been a few days." Dimitri responds.

"No, I think it's over this time."

"You said that last time."

"This time it's different." Ben says and there's almost a whiny note in his voice.

It was still incredible to me that Guardians had emotions. Ben who seemed very precise and organised sounding…vulnerable was weird.

Too much had been weird in such a short space of time.

"She threw the baby book at me just because I said we shouldn't be bringing kids into the world when we couldn't agree on things."

"That sounds reasonable."

"I know right? I want a few more years before starting a family."

I think they'd forgotten I was there. I still had the ability to remain invisible at least.

"And she doesn't want to wait anymore?"

Ben sighs. "She worried about how much could change in a few years… especially in our line of work."

"That's also reasonable… couldn't you balance both?"

"Not while working here. I'd be in two minds."

Listening to them chatting about children and families made hollowness open up in my stomach. What kind of father would Ben be? Would he be like Master Ozera, cold and polite … I didn't think so.

The happy pictures from downstairs whirl through my mind.

"Anyway." Ben says, his tone snapping back to normal. "Voda called, I'm running out to be an extra escort from the airport. Victor wants you to translate some things for him when you're done showing our new house mate around."

I look up and Ben winks at me. Flustered I look away, it was a friendly wink but it was still something I had no idea what to do with or how to reciprocate.

"I know. I'll be there shortly."

"Good luck with Spiridon's room, Rose. You might find a case file that we've been looking for that he denies ever having. Later Belikov."

Ben walks away down the corridor, pausing to stick his head into Mr Dashkov office.

"That's Spiridon's room at the end. Beside Ben's room is the house's security room, then a restroom. Upstairs is Victor and Natalie's suites. Do you want me to show you up there?"

I nod and he leads me back down the hall to the stairs that will take us up to the last floor of the house. Two doors meet us at the top on either side of the hall and I realize both rooms take up the entire floor.

Mr Dashkov's room was simple but immaculate. Dark wood, rich purples and white. He had a desk up here also, laden with a computer and stationary. Book shelves line the wall behind it and a door I guess was his personal bathroom also. Two armchairs sat proudly in front of a grand fireplace. I do a quick once over and avert my gaze to the floor wondering why he didn't work up here instead of in his office.

Natalie's room made me the most uncomfortable but it was by far the most interesting. Nothing was immaculate and stepping into her room made me feel like I was under attack by the girl herself.

Each wall was a different colour, blue, green, lilac and one with a white background but in the middle someone had started a mural of orange and golds. A sunrise…how incredible someone could capture it…and it was beautiful even though unfinished.

Her bed covers were multi-coloured and little lights were wrapped around her bed frame. Clothes littered her floor and shoes spilled out of huge closet like we'd caught them in the middle of their escape.

Pictures are tacked to her blue wall, a mess of groups and individual shots of young people. One girl appeared continuously. Natalie. I couldn't help but think her green eyes were permanently excited.

I had bravely crossed this girl's room that was brimming with so much personal information and pieces of her life, drawn to the photos although I should know better than to be nosy. My eyes roam over the photographs that were almost on top of each other, peeking into Natalie's vibrant life. I pause on the photo of Natalie's arm draped around another girl with bright gold curls. Natalie's smile is so huge it's almost funny but her friend was smiling in a quiet way. Not shy exactly but more… reserved. She was in other photos too I saw now, with other people, some boys. I notice that mostly the same people reoccur in every photo and that one boy is always touching Natalie in some way. Her hand, her waist, shoulder or smiling at her.

My favourite one is one that must have been taken without her or her friends knowing. Natalie and the blonde girl along with others are all laughing, turned away from the shot and looking at a boy with red hair who is making a stupid face and holding a banana to his ear like a telephone.

"Natalie is very popular." Dimitri says quietly.

"She's in the photographs downstairs." I point to the pretty girl with gold hair.

He steps up beside me, his eyes finding the girl in question.

"Vasilisa Dragomir. Her father and Victor are very good friends, almost family if not already." His finger hovers over a picture. "That is her brother Andre."

How did you become family without sharing blood?

I turn away from the photos. Other pieces of Natalie's life were prizes on her walls but I didn't understand them. A silk item with "Homecoming Queen" written on it and bigger pictures like one's I had saw on buildings as we'd driven to the plane. A man half dressed in one and in another a group of boys, all clothed, with "One Direction" written underneath.

I wanted to know what it all meant but it was overwhelming and I felt angry in this room. Like I was being teased.

"I wish I could say Natalie's room would the messiest to deal with but I have a feeling Spiridon's will be the worst."

I turn to him and find he's moved back to the doorway. He didn't like being in here either I thought but why?

"What about your room?" I ask, making my way over. I didn't want to be in here anymore either.

We step out into the hall and he closes Natalie's door.

"You don't have to worry about my room." He says, turning away and starting down the stairs.

I follow close behind.

"No, you don't seem like a messy person." I murmur.

He turns so suddenly I almost fall back on the steps in surprise.

His dark eyes are sharp in his blank face. "My meaning was you don't have to trouble yourself with my bedroom."

He may as well have shouted at me. I swallow and nod. He starts back down the stairs and after a moment I follow, my heart beating harder in my chest. It reminded me that I'd been stupid enough again to think I had found some steady ground only for it to turn rocky beneath me.

Why didn't he want me in his room? I knew better than to ask…but I hated the thought that he was trying to baby me. To spare me from doing a chore as if he was doing me a favour, like he had done this morning with breakfast. I'd glanced a little bit of his room then…

When I reach the landing Dimitri is already standing at Mr Dashkov's office door, talking too low for me to hear. I was still reeling from his abrupt order and I shouldn't be. I should expect abruptness and being snapped at. I shouldn't feel this…upset about it.

I need to stop relaxing around him.

I shuffle down the hall intending to go back to the room until further instruction. Or I could take closer look at the cleaning products and I start with the kitchen and-

"Rose." I twitch and glance up at Dimitri.

Past him Mr Dashkov is sat behind a large mahogany desk.

Mr Dashkov smiles. "Rose dear, please come here a moment."

I watch my feet cross over the cream carpet to the dark wood of his office. The warm masculine smell that I know is Dimitri presses against me as I pass over the threshold but disappears as the door closes.

He'd left.

My bones lock up.

"Why don't you sit down dear?"

It's not a question.

I gingerly sit down in the seat facing him, sinking into the soft cushion. There's a soft ticking noise punctuating the room.

"You don't have to be afraid. No one's going to harm you here." He says gently. "I know that might be hard for you to believe now but you have my word. Myself and the boys, I probably shouldn't call them that…but we are nothing like the Ozera's or their employees. Not many are in our world which is a terrible misfortune you have suffered. I hope you grow comfortable here and if anything makes you uncomfortable I want you tell me, Rose."

My name acts as leverage to lift my gaze and meet his. The green eyes I'd been looking at in Natalie's photos are looking at me now in sincerity over his steepled fingers.

"Promise me, that if something is ever wrong you will tell me or one the boys, no matter how trivial."

"I promise."

Mr Dashkovs shoulders relax as if an issue had been weighing on him and now was resolved. He lowers his hands to the desk and claps them. "Thank you. So, did you sleep well?"

I nod and realize how lacking it is but I can't bring myself to say thank you.

"I'm glad you like your new room. Don't be afraid to style it to your tastes. I know green isn't a very exciting colour so when Natalie's back she can help you choose some new paint. She's very interested in that sort of thing. Did Dimitri show you her room? It looks like a rainbow and forever 21 exploded in there."

He chuckles softly and my bones begin to relax. His dark hair had a nice shine to it but there was darkness under his eyes that contrasted with the pallor of his skin. It hadn't been that pale yesterday.

"What is your favourite colour?" He asks smiling.

Weight presses down on my chest. I'm allowed to do this now, allowed to speak, to think, be honest.

"Purple. Maybe red." I answer quietly.

"Very strong colours." He remarks. "Passionate and regal, how interesting. I'm sure Natalie and you can brainstorm some ideas."

"I like green. In the room… I like it." My cheeks are heating up.

He cocks his head to the side. "You don't want to change it? Don't worry about offending me, Dear."

I lick my dry lips. "It reminds me of outside. I like it."

"Oh." He says simply and I knot my hands together in my lap.

"Did you notice the private garden at breakfast? It's not very big, not like…what you are accustomed to but you can have access to it. Absolutely."

I remain quiet as he tells me the code, thinking it wrong to tell him that Dimitri had already given me this privilege as it might not have been his to give.

"Thank you." I murmur. "I did notice it earlier. It's beautiful."

Mr Dashkov's smiles had been polite but the one he gives me now in response softens his face.

"Thank you. It is mine and Natalie's project. Something we started some years ago."

His eyes see something that isn't here but then he blinks back into the present, his smile disappearing.

He coughs gently. "That is the only code I can tell you for now I'm afraid. Having seen the whole house do you think you will be able to handle tending to it?"

I nod my head. Glad he'd turned to a subject with familiar ground.

"I don't expect everything to be pristine every day, just neat. As for meals I have to say having breakfast to look forward to would be excellent, as would dinner. Anything else we can fend for ourselves. Oh but I do like my coffee fix… would you mind? If Dimitri shows you how to make it?"

"Not at all, Sir."

I'm so relieved by having tasks set that I don't immediately recognise how his shoulders have tensed.

"Rose." He says quietly. "You can call me Victor."

Dimitri had told me to call him that too but it didn't seem right. I didn't have right to his name. He was moroi, my superior.

"Really Dear, I'd prefer it. 'Sir' being used inside my home gives me some anxiety. A home is where we can relax. Please, call me Victor."

My tongue is lead so I nod.

His lips quirk up.

"If you call me 'Sir' I will in return call you 'Miss'"

My face spasms.

"See? Sounds completely ridiculous doesn't it?"

There's a light tap on the door and my shoulders twitch.

"Come in." Mr Dash – Victor, calls. He leans back in his chair, his face politely composed.

Dimitri enters carrying a steaming mug.

"Thank you Dimitri. White, three sugars and a little bit of cream." Victor says, casting me an amused glance. I mentally note the description.

"Ben says Voda has gone straight to the school and after is going back to the hotel. He'll check in with us tomorrow." Dimitri reports.

Victor nods around his mug.

"Okay, good. Did Spiridon call Alice?"

"Yes, she'll be here at one."

"Seems a bit late for her." Victor frowns.

"She's on over time."

"Ah."

"Ben said you wanted me to translate some scripts?"

"Yes, yes." Victor says putting down his mug. "I was just finishing up with Rose."

Dimitri looks at me for the first time since coming in and I look away.

There was a large frame behind Victor's chair that held multiple small portraits with loopy writing underneath them. Names I realized. With a jolt I think I decode 'Dashkov' and following a thread that connects to another name I see 'Dragomir'.

"Just a few other little things." Victor says, drawing my attention. "If there are any essentials you require in the time being let us know. Uh, clothes and toiletries and such."

That word again, 'essentials'. I had no idea what they meant by it. Clothes… well I had borrowed clothes. I didn't need anything else. As for toiletries there was soap in the bathroom I had used this morning, what else could I need? I glance at Dimitri for some hint or indication but he's reading through some papers.

I shake my head.

Mr Dashkov looks relieved. "We'll let Natalie sort that out then when she returns home, which should be the day after next. But if you do think of anything don't be afraid to ask. One last thing then…" Mr Dashkov's voice drops down at the end and Dimitri's gaze slides away from the page to my face.

Mr Dashkov says my name and when I look back at him I feel like a magnet being drawn toward another. I can't look away from his jade green eyes and the room around us blurs. I should be afraid but I'm not. I am utterly calm, boneless and weightless. Nothing else exists but him.

"Are you relaxed Rose?"

"I'm relaxed." I murmur lazily.

Mr Dashkov smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes which are utterly trained on mine.

"Good…now listen closely. While you are staying here you're going to overhear a lot of things that could be valuable in the wrong people's hands. People that wish to undermine me and what I'm working toward. Dimitri tells me you're intuitive Rose, so here's what I want you to for me. If ever you are approached and asked about my business in a way you think is shady I want you to report it to me. In the same instance I want you to respond to those who inquire that you do not know what they are talking about or cannot help them. You change the subject and then when you are free of their presence you come to me. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"Secondly, unless you are discussing the subject with myself, Ben, Spiridon or Dimitri you will forget the name Zemy. You will forget discussions about 'the circle' and about leads, contacts or information you have overheard concerning the former. You will forget."

Of course I would forget. The instructions were sinking into my mind like a stone in water.

"Do you understand Rose?"

"Yes."

"Okay then. Now - "

"Victor." A blurred voice interrupts.

Mr Dashkov doesn't look away from me, his gaze keeping me anchored, but he cocks his head to the left as he listens to the stranger's voice.

"She needs to be comfortable in taking things from the kitchen. I can't watch her all the time. She needs to follow Keith's plan. And drink water regularly."

Mr Dashkov nods and I almost nod too.

"Rose whenever you're hungry or think you can manage to eat a little more do not hesitate to take whatever you like from the kitchen. And drink water throughout the day. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good." Mr Dashkov smiles. "Now, forget we have had this conversation"

I shut my eyes and the sensation you get when waking comes over me.

Yano, how you're utterly boneless until you realize you're waking up and become aware of the weight of your body.

I open my eyes and blink.

Mr Dashkov is smiling at me.

Dimitri is reading the papers in his hands.

"I'm sorry." I say, trying to pull back the last thing we'd spoken about. Calling him by his name?

"I was just saying what lovely hair you have." Mr Dashkov says. "I haven't seen a dhampir, or young lady for that matter, with such long hair in a long time."

I look down at the dark locks draped over my shoulders.

"Thank you." I murmur.

Looking back up I see Dimitri's gaze has slid over in my direction again, studying my hair. He looks back to his papers.

"That's everything Rose. If you could prepare something for around three that would be wonderful and if you have any questions you know where to find me."

I hesitate for a moment before letting the dismissal push me out of the chair. Mr Dashkov was turning on his computer and Dimitri was already talking to him about the papers he was holding. I slip out of the room and into the hall. The house was quiet with the exception of muffled noise from below that after a moment I recognise as staged noise, like the TV.

Ben was away so that meant Spiridon was down stairs. I decide to go back to the room I'd stayed in last night. Maybe later I could muster up the courage to go down but right now I couldn't face Spiridon alone. When I reach the room I glance over at Dimitri's door before pushing the other open.

I shut the door behind me and I lean against it, admiring my surroundings and letting myself relax. It wasn't the garden but it was as good as.

Today had been okay. I was surviving and I was learning how to handle the people here.

The only thing I was expected to do today was prepare dinner and that had to be some time away. I wasn't very good with time. It had been harder for my mother to teach it to me. It wasn't like we could hide a clock. Thankfully I was okay with egg timers and minutes, basics like that I could use in the kitchen but reading time and telling it as in marking the point of day was…tricky.

I push away from the door deciding to practice on the small clock that was on the bedside table. I'm halfway across the room when I see what has been keeping it company. I sit down on the bed slowly and reach out for it. It's small and sturdy in my hands. The plastic creases under my prying fingers and then comes off. The smell of chocolate tickles my nose and a smile tugs at my lips as I cradle the dessert in my lap.

/

Eight turns to nine on the clock, the largest digit. It read 01:29 and I was nearly positive that it was an hour and thirty minutes until three O'clock. Half of three was 1.5 so two made three right? I bite my lip as the nine turns to zero. Well I could always go and prepare what I needed to make or find out preferences.

I roll off the bed which I had decided was going to be my new friend. I mean if I was being allowed to sleep in here every night then we would be spending a lot of time together. It was going to see me at my most vulnerable and comfort me and know what dreams tugged at my hair. I think it's only fair that I respect and appreciate it.

I tie my hair up into a soft knot and step out into the hall. I listen for voices or noises from below but I can't hear anything distinguishable. Earlier there had been low voices passing my room but I had been in the bathroom considering my reflection and hadn't paid attention…I probably should have.

A voice that sounded terribly like my mother's begins scolding me and I wince.

The door down the hall opens and I jump.

Spiridon comes out of Mr Dashkov's office with a woman tucked under his arm. I press back against my door and blindly search for the handle.

He spots me and my hand stops in its search. He looks away uninterested and I take a deep breath. He murmurs something to the woman who he seems to be trying to lead. The woman was older than me but younger than Mr Dashkov and by the blissed out look on her face it became apparent that Spiridon was the only thing keep her upright.

A wire coil around my chest unwinds and the echo of an urge to go to her and help disappears. She didn't need the kind of help I'd risk pushing a Guardian into a wall for. The realization that I'd thought about attacking him is like a slap. I snap out of it as they pass me.

The woman grins dopily at me.

"Such a pretty girl." She drawls out.

"Yes she is." Spiridon says dismissively. "Let's get you home Alice. The cat will be missing you."

"Oooooh Tiger! I love my little Tiger."

Spiridon sighs and the arm around her waist tightens as he takes them down the first step. It takes them a long time to reach the bottom. I stay where I am, listening to the woman's strange babbling and Spiridon's docile replies.

"You!" The woman exclaims from below and I creep closer to the mouth of the stairs. "You are so tall. Like a tree. I could climb you like Tiger climbs a tree."

There's a noise like someone blowing air through tight lips followed by a laugh.

"Goodnight Alice." Dimitri's says.

"C'mon, you're in no condition to climb anything. No matter how badly that tree needs it." Spiridon says, his voice holding back more laughter.

I come down a few steps and see Dimitri closing the front door. He looks up at me and nods before walking into the kitchen.

I come down the rest of the stairs and follow.

He's pouring coffee into two mugs. I wrap my arms around myself.

"Who was that woman?"

"Alice."

He adds milk and sugar to one mug, leaving the other black.

"Victor's feeder." He adds and tilts his head toward me. I get the feeling he's waiting for me to grasp something.

My lips part. "Oh."

I no longer see Dimitri or the kitchen. I see puncture marks on my mother's neck. The vacancy in her eyes and her shaking hands hours later. I see a body pressing another to the ground, a mouth locked onto a neck.

"Rose?"

I blink and Dimitri is what I see.

I look down at the hand resting lightly on my shoulder. It lifts so only the calloused fingertips are touching me.

"Are you okay?"

I step away from him, my hands curling into fists.

"What did he do to her?" My voice is barely a whisper because of fear but it sounds cold.

Dimitri's eyebrows knit closer together. "He fed from her."

His dark eyes drop from my face to my hands.

"Alice has been Victors' feeder for many years. He pays fairly for her services, once every week. It is consensual and either can end the arrangement at any time."

He must have some idea to what I'm thinking and that frightens me even more.

"She…she was human."

"Yes."

I can't look at him anymore. Not when his face is coaxing me to understand something I can't, something that's making my stomach churn and my head feel light.

"Rose, it's mutual. I promise."

A hot buzz rockets up my spine and onto my tongue.

"You haven't explained your other promise."

There was a light bandage around his hand now and as I glare at it his fingers curl inward. He takes a deep breath.

"Sit at the bar. I'll get you some juice."

I didn't want juice. I wanted to run out of the room.

His boots move away and I'm glaring at the kitchen tiles instead. I hear him open the fridge and as my cheeks portray my embarrassment I do as he asks and go to a bar stool. I slide up onto it and he sets the orange carton down on the counter.

"Moroi need blood to sustain them. Means of doing that can be more…civil than others." He says flatly and I hear another cupboard open.

I put together what Dimitri called 'civil' and contrasted to what I had seen growing up. And though I knew in my bones what I had seen was wrong who was to say that it wasn't by their means 'civil'.

The moroi came first.

He sets a glass down in front of me making me look up. His expression had opened somehow, it was less guarded and I could read it in his eyes that he was willing to be honest with me but how honest and for how long wasn't clear.

He speaks softly. "From your reaction I'm going to venture that your experience or knowledge of this isn't a pleasant one but I swear the handling of the situation is as fair as can be."

He opens the carton and I realize he's set out two glasses. He pours them and without thinking I give into an urge to reach out and take a glass. I stare down at it cupped in my hands surprised like I wasn't sure how it had gotten there. Before I can think too much about it I lift it to my lips. The sweetness clears my head.

"Does it hurt her?" I mumble.

Shame of the disrespect I'd shown him settles on my shoulders but the need to know, to understand more, was stronger than the voice in my head telling me to shut up.

He pauses and I look up.

His dark eyes are watching me intently and I get the feeling he's relieved. "No, it certainly doesn't hurt her but it can harm her."

My stomach drops. "How?"

He leans down to balance his elbows on the counters surface, putting us on the same level.

"A moroi's bite doesn't hurt because of how the venom within the fangs reacts to blood. Instead of pain the recipient of the bite feels pleasure, a high unlike any other. It's euphoric." Dimitri looks ahead as if seeing something that isn't in the room with us. "That kind of euphoria can easily become addictive. The recipient could abuse their bodies own need for blood in exchange for the high. They can then die from blood loss or from organ failure as their bodies denied the nutrients it needs. And the worst part is they won't even realize they're dying because the venom's made them feel so good."

He takes a drink and I watch the muscles move in his throat, trying to block out my mother's shaking hands.

"That's why Alice only comes once a week. She has enough time between sessions to not become seriously addicted. " He says and takes another sip.

"But she is addicted." I say.

He glances at me and lowers the glass. "You are bright. Yes, she is but that addiction built over many years and for a better word, it's stable."

I try to remember if Master Ozera allowed my mother one week. I couldn't make myself believe he did.

"As for this." He says quietly, toying with the tie of his bandage. "You know what I promised. You heard me."

I had heard him but there was more and there were whys. I lick my lips about to ask when he straightens up and moves away.

"I'm taking this up." He says, grabbing one of the steaming mugs.

I sip my juice trying to wrap my mind around how some of the things I'd had nightmares about had happened here and that they could be called 'civil'. I play with my mother's chain around my throat, the pendant tapping between my fingers.

I finish my juice deciding that I wasn't going to try and understand it and I was only going to ask Dimitri one more thing.

I hop off the stool and wander over to fridge, stamping on the panic inside. I pour myself another glass of juice and put the carton back. I'm about to shut the door when I spot yoghurt on the second shelf. I bite my lip before picking one up. Lemon. I pick up a few others before deciding on caramel. I'd never had caramel.

I'm looking for a spoon when the front door swings open.

I jump and lose my grip on the carton. My fingers fumble hopelessly with it before it hits the floor. It's like common sense clicks in my head and I stare down at the pot horrified by what I've done.

"Shit. Sorry Rose, didn't mean to scare you." Ben says, closing the door behind him.

"I – I." What the hell had I done? Just taken it without asking, without thinking.

Ben walks over and scoops up the pot and turns it over in his hands. My own begin to shake.

"Didn't burst." He says and holds it out to me smiling.

"I'm sorry. I didn't, I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry."

The grin slips off his mouth and his eyebrows furrow. He's realized what I'd done, how I've become so greedy after only being here a day.

"Hey, it's okay."

His hand moves out and I stumble back into the sink.

"Rose it's okay!"

"What's going on?" Dimitri's voice lashes out, cutting through the turbulence in my head.

"I don't know! She just started freaking out."

"Rose." He kneels down beside me and I flinch. "Rose, calm down."

Ben says something and his boots retreat from the kitchen.

"Look at me."

His voice is gentle but the order underlines it. I make my eyes find his.

"Talk me through this." He says.

I open my mouth but words can't find an opening through the gasps. His bandaged hand takes my numb fingers and lifts them to his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat presses against my palm and sinks into my blood. The steadiness reaches my chest and quietens my frantic heart like it had in the woods.

My breathing calms.

"Sorry." I whisper.

"It's okay. You're okay." He says.

He lets go of my hand and takes my shoulders, lifting me to my feet.

"Now, talk me through this. What happened?"

I spy the yoghurt on the counter where Ben must have put it. Dimitri follows my gaze.

"I took it." I whisper. "I don't know why but I did and Ben came in and I dropped it."

He exhales. "I told you you're allowed to take what you want from in here."

"But I didn't even think about it or ask anyone."

"You don't have to ask."

I didn't feel as frightened anymore but I did feel very stupid. I rub my head and take a deep breath.

"I just… I just."

"It will take time." He says quietly and I look up at him. If I didn't know better and judging by the last ten minutes I didn't, I would say there was a touch of sadness in his eyes. "To get used to how things are now."

"Dimitri." I whisper. "Will Alice be the only…feeder?"

It takes a moment but understanding dawns in his eyes. The hands on my shoulders tighten. "Yes."

The weight in my chest evaporates and I let out the breath I'd been holding in.

He lets go of my shoulders and steps away. He picks up the yoghurt and holds it out to me. I look from it to him.

"If you want something, you take it."

I take it.

/

Tasting caramel was like seeing Victors garden or sleeping in the bed. It was incredible and I had to keep fighting the urge to get another. It was an urge that was easier to fight with the distraction of the TV. I was sitting at one end of the sofa and Ben was sprawled in the other. He'd brushed off my apology after I'd worked up the courage to leave the kitchen and insisted I sit down and become a 'vegetable' with him.

I didn't know what he meant.

We were watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S and even though I didn't understand parts that made Ben laugh, I liked it.

"Ah, the old ones are the best one." Ben tells me, slouching down lower.

I get up to go check on the Bolognese I'd left on a low heat and to start the pasta. I wasn't sure how much I should use but decide that having more would be better than having less. Once that's cooking I start grating cheese.

"It smells so damn good down here!" Spiridon yells and I hear him on the stairs.

In a matter of seconds he appears in the doorway. "How long Master chef?"

I take a breath. "About ten minutes."

It would be ready for exactly three O'clock.

"Awesome! Is there garlic bread?"

"Yes."

"SWEET!"

"Do you need help with anything?" Dimitri asks, striding past Spiridon to the sink where he dumps two mugs.

"No, I'm managing. Thank you."

"Need the table set?" He asks, turning on the faucet.

"On it!" Spiridon says. "Hey Ben, how about getting off your ass and doing something useful!"

I protest but it falls short as Spiridon gathers cutlery and Ben sorts out drinks.

"Wanna beer?" Ben asks Dimitri.

"Yes." He responds lifting down plates.

I start spooning out the pasta.

"Something smells delicious." I hear Mr Dashkov say from the hall and pride swells in my chest.

Dimitri lifts the two plates I've just spooned Bolognese on to and it seems we're carrying on our routine rom this morning. I know better than to fight him on this so I bite my tongue and lift out the bread from the oven. Everything smells so good. Dimitri comes back and takes another two plates wordlessly. I separate the garlic bread up in a dish and carry it and my own plate into the dining room, trying not to think about the excess pasta let in the pot.

I'd made far too damn much.

I approach the table and see the last space set was next to Dimitri again. That made me grateful and anxious at the same.

I'd barely placed the bread dish in the middle when Spiridon snatches the biggest piece.

"This is so good, Rose." Ben says.

I try not to grin and just nod, picking up my own fork.

"It really is." Dimitri adds quietly and takes a drink from his bottle.

The grin wins the fight but I hide it behind my glass of water.

"One problem though." Spiridon says, one cheek bulging out the side of his face.

The grin disappears and the others all pause, even Mr Dashkov's glass pauses in the air.

Spiridon looks around. "We're all gonna stink of garlic."

"Well, it will keep the vampires away." Mr Dashkov replies.

They all laugh. Dimitri shakes his head but he's smiling. Mr Dashkov shoots me a grin and then he and Ben start discussing someone called Voda who would be here tomorrow. I take a bite of my food and resist the urge to moan.

Maybe I could manage it, survival but if I couldn't I was definitely going to enjoy the food in the meantime.

After dinner Ben stays behind in the kitchen to show me how to use the dishwasher.

"And you put the tablet in here. Simple."

I bite the inside of my cheek.

"What?"

"It just seems…lazy." I say quietly.

"You just made dinner for five you can afford to be lazy." He says grinning. "What are we going to do with all that pasta though."

I glance nervously at the bowl in question.

"I could make a pasta salad?"

"Eh, whatever you want."

I lift the bowl and put it in the fridge, trying to breathe around my filled stomach. I was relieved I didn't have to do anything if I was honest. Any sudden movement and I might burst open.

"Rose, could you pass me the milk." Dimitri says, coming into the room and flicking the coffee machine on.

They drank so much of that stuff.

"Want one?" Dimitri asks Ben, taking the milk from me.

"Nah." Ben says and hops up onto the counter. "Do like coffee Rose?"

I shake my head.

Ben's face suddenly splits into a grin that makes me nervous. "I know what you'd like. Dude, do we Hot Chocolate?"

Dimitri scans the cupboard. "No. I'll write it on the shopping list."

"Damn. I would have liked to have seen your face." Ben says. "Oh and get whipped cream."

"Obviously." Dimitri says.

He leans against the counter and pulls his hair back, snapping a hair tie around it. I'd never seen a man have a ponytail before, never thought about it but looking at Dimitri it made me think more men should wear it that way. Then again I doubted it would look right on everybody. Maybe it only looked right on him.

He reaches for two clean mugs and my gaze drops to the markings on the back of his neck. I'd seen them before on other Guardians but only quick peeks. I hadn't been able to see that they looked like small lightning bolts.

"Do you know what they are?" Ben asks, having noticed my ogling.

I look down as Dimitri turns and shake my head.

"Molnija marks. They count for every strigoi a Guardian's killed."

I look up at Dimitri. "So you've killed six?"

He nods.

"No." Ben frowns and then turns to Dimitri. "Seven. We haven't inked you for the Ozera's."

"We can do it after I've taken this upstairs." Dimitri replies, pouring out the coffee.

"How are you going to do it?" I ask Ben after Dimitri leaves with the drinks.

"You'll see." He grins, walking away. "Go wait in the living room for us."

I wipe down the counters and then go perch on one of the chairs. I lift the black remote that controls the TV but I'm not sure which buttons to press so I put it back down. Ben comes back first carrying something shaped like a gun but the fixtures are different. He also has a packet of wipes.

Dimitri returns downstairs and sits down on the sofa. His ponytail had been tied up higher leaving his neck exposed. Ben takes out one of the wipes and rubs it over Dimitri's neck. I shift to the edge of my seat for a better look. Ben lift the gun and I jump as it suddenly comes to life with a loud buzzing noise.

"You good man?" Ben says.

Dimitri nods.

Ben moves the end of the gun that's tapered to a thin needle toward Dimitri's neck.

"Does it hurt?" I ask, more fascinated than anything.

"Nah." Ben says as the needle makes contact with Dimitri's tan skin. I tense but Dimitri doesn't react at all.

The needle stains the skin black and slowly Ben begins forming the shape of the other six marks.

"Why is that one different?" I ask, pointing to the mark in the centre of the six. It was like a stretched out 'S'

Dimitri answers. "A promise mark. It means I've completed my training."

"A promise to what?"

"To do our duty." Ben replies.

I watch the needle staining his skin, making what happened that night in the woods a physical memory that would always be branded on his skin. The skin around the mark has gone pink and although Ben said it didn't hurt it had to be somewhat uncomfortable.

"Done." Ben announces and slaps Dimitri's shoulder. "Want anything else why I'm here? A butterfly maybe? Rachael's name?"

I feel rather than see Dimitri roll his eyes. Ben grins and rips off some gauze he's also brought. He tapes it onto Dimitri's neck.

"You'll be right as rain in the morning."

Dimitri only nods.

"What does a butterfly mark mean?" I ask and they both turn to me.

There's a pause and then Ben answers.

"Means 'Virgin'."

I blink.

Ben bursts out laughing and Dimitri shakes his head. It clicks he's messing with me and my cheeks flame.

"Sorry." Ben says looking anything but.

I mutter something that should have told them I was going to bed but even to my own ears it was ridiculous. I would guess they figured it out when I half run toward the stairs.

/

The next morning I don't knock on Dimitri's door. I get dressed in her clothes and check the time, it was an hour earlier than yesterday but they had slept late then. I go down to the kitchen and after deliberating I decide on eggs again but this time fried with sausages, toast and tomatoes.

I flick on the coffee machine and hear a faint noise from upstairs, like a door opening. Seconds later Dimitri walks into the kitchen.

"You didn't wake me."

"Was I meant to?"

He casts me a look out of the corner of his eye as he heads toward the coffee machine.

"No, I suppose not."

I sip my water and check the sausages under the grill.

"Did you sleep in those clothes?" he asks and I look down at myself.

I swallow. "No."

"We need to get you more things. I'm sure it would be okay for you to go through Natalie's clothes, grab some pyjamas' at least."

I was not going to take from someone I hadn't even met.

I crack eggs into the pan and Dimitri takes out plates. He goes to wake the others and I try to prepare Mr Dashkov's coffee with the instructions he'd given me yesterday. I'm not sure how much milk to put in so I try to go by colour and then add sugar and cream.

The house begins to waken with Spiridon carolling about the greatness of breakfast and Ben telling him to shut up as they come into the kitchen. They nod at me and Ben start takes out cutlery and Spiridon gets the juice. He comes over to the counter where I am and I tense up. He pats my shoulder roughly and takes Mr Dashkov's coffee into the dining room. I listen for a few seconds anticipating someone calling me to take it back and do it right but no one does.

My shoulders relax.

Dimitri comes back in and wordlessly we finish preparing plates. He makes me that brown goop and throughout the meal I feel him watching me, urging me to keep eating it. I add more sugar than yesterday, trying not to care what he'd think of that.

They talk more about what they need to do and discuss people and something called the 'circle'. Only when they say 'Voda' will be visiting do I really start to pay attention. Mr Dashkov was going to have guests which meant I had to have this place spotless.

I'm turning over ideas on how to clean the glass wall when they all simultaneously move indicating breakfast is over. Ben disappears into the hall and I guess he's going down to the garage. Spiridon leaves with his phone glued to his ear and Mr Dashkov follows after thanking me.

Dimitri helps me clear the table again.

We work in silence, mostly because I'm biting on my tongue so I don't tell him I can do it myself. I doubted he'd listen anyway and the thought irritated me.

I'm drying the oven tray when I decide to break the silence with a coffee offering but when I turn around he's already gone. For some reason, even though I'd spent the last fifteen minutes wishing he'd leave, I feel the damp stain of disappointment in my chest.

I slam the tray down onto the rack and go to inspect Mr Dashkov's supply of window cleaner.

/

Thankfully there were some step ladders in the supply room that I hadn't noticed before. They'd been concealed behind the door when I'd first come in which meant I didn't have to ask Dimitri could I stand on his shoulders. I could only imagine how he'd react to that or rather, how he wouldn't react at all.

Did he ever laugh?

Spiridon laughed a lot. Mostly at others though.

I puff out a huge breath as I reach the top floor dragging the vacuum cleaner up behind me. I lean against the wall and take a moment. Her sweater was sticking to my back and the nape of my neck was damp. I use the cuff of her sleeve to dab it and blow out another breath.

So far I'd cleaned the glass wall and the floors, polished, dusted and braved Ben and Spiridon's room with their permission.

Ben's room was clean enough, his laundry set aside in a basket for me and it didn't need much attention bar a going over with the vacuum. I polished the two pictures at his desk, one of a pretty young woman and himself, the one I guessed he was arguing with and the other was of and older couple, the man resembled Ben which suggested it were his parents. I didn't look at that photo for too long. I straightened out his bedding and after much thought I picked the fluffy, white teddy bear off the shelf and nestled him between Ben's pillows. He looked more comfortable there…and it made me giggle.

I hoped he wouldn't mind.

Spiridon's room was chaos. Not like Natalie's chaos which was clean and bright. Spiridon had a collection of plates and glasses, all piled upon each other looking ready to topple. Carrying them downstairs required two trips, one in which I passed the rooms owner who grinned at me in a way that made me want to throw the sour smelling bowls at him. His dirty clothes were everywhere, lurking under the bed or spread around the floor. The air was a mixture of stale sweat and the ghost of cologne. I threw open his window and sprayed half a bottle of air freshener wondering how the hell he survived in there. The smell was like inhaling rot that could slowly kill you from the inside.

I gave up trying to figure out what was clean and what wasn't and took everything down to be washed, including his sheets.

Breakfast was no longer a heavy feeling in my stomach but had burned away as I'd made my way through the house.

With one last huff I step into Natalie's room. I fold her clothes or hang the back up in her closet. I arrange her shoes neatly on the rack in her closet and spend ten minutes looking for a rogue one that had hidden under her bed. I find earrings littered around her floor and return them to her jewellery box which was brimming with sparkly treasure. I straighten out her bed sheets and crack open her window. Giving the room one last sweep I decide it's safe to bring the vacuum cleaner in as it doesn't look like it will be danger of choking on anything.

Mr Dashkov's room takes about the quarter of the time to clean. I wipe down his leather chair and polish his picture frames, happy photos of his family. It would probably have taken less time if I hadn't paused over his photos for so long but I couldn't help but wonder what had happened to wife and was he ever as happy as he looked in these photographs.

I run the vacuum around the room and then step out, leaving the happy memories alone once more.

I'm grateful the vacuum has wheels so I don't have to drag it behind me when I reach the next floor. I pause outside Mr Dashkov's office like I had on the way up. I hold my fist up and after a moment I knock.

"Come in."

Mr Dashkov's sitting behind his desk, so is Dimitri. The have papers fanned out in front of them and Dimitri's hands are poised on a laptop. He glances at me but then goes back to typing.

Mr Dashkov answers the question I'd opened my mouth to ask.

"Not right now, Rose. A time when we're not working, thank you."

I stand dumbly for a moment before my wits catch up to me. I nod and close the door.

I almost trip over the vacuum when I see Spiridon watching me as from where he leans against the door to my room.

I collect myself and pick up the fallen vacuum and without being able to do much else I walk toward him.

"How's it goin, Cinderella?"

I look up confused and wish I hadn't. He snorts at my expression.

"Excuse me."

I pull the vacuum to the top of the stairs. He leans against the bannister.

"You know this guy coming to see Victor is a big deal. You should probably bake something, like cookies. Have tea and coffee set up, it would be very welcoming."

The heat that had rushed to my face in my discomfort now drained.

"When are they coming?"

"Around and hour or so. Think you can manage it?"

I nod rigidly as ingredients and timings run through my head.

"Good. Or Victor would be really disappointed. That would suck considering all he's done for you."

Icy slush churns in my stomach and I swallow.

He grins. "See you later, Cinders. Chocolate chip by the way…"

He pushes off the bannister and walks down the hall.

I blink and then lift the vacuum, carrying it down the stairs as quickly as possible without falling and breaking my legs. I put the vacuum back in the supply room and rush to the kitchen.

I go through all the cupboards, pulling out ingredients in relief when I come across them.

There are no chocolate chips.

I clutch my head, my heart beat getting louder in my ears.

"You okay?"

I whirl around.

Ben closes the fridge, a can of soda in one hand and the other he half raises toward me. A calming gesture.

I take two deep breaths and let my hands drop to my neck.

"I need chocolate chips."

Ben considers this. "Okay…I'll run out to the store. Anything else?"

I shake my head, pressing my lips together so I don't beg him to hurry.

"Alright, back soon."

He walks out and punches the code into the door.

I turn on the oven to preheat and start putting the other ingredients together.

My stomach gurgles.

I drop the measurement of brown sugar into the mixing bowl with the melted butter and then go to fridge. I take out a bottle of water and an apricot yoghurt. I eat my yoghurt in between beating both the ingredients together. I crack in and egg and add vanilla extract, the smell sending me back to the night in the Ozera's dining room. I whisk the ingredients harder.

I'm sieving the flour and salt together when Ben comes back.

"Thank you." I murmur, prying at the saturated edge.

"What are friends for?"

I pause in pouring the chips into the mix but when I look up he's already walking out, whistling merrily.

I pour in the cocoa powder I found lurking behind the coffee and by the time I'm done whisking that together my arms ache. I panic when I can't find the grease paper for the tray but then realize I'm holding it. I roll out 12 cookies between two trays and pop them into the oven.

I fall back against the counter and unscrew the water bottle.

The cookies would just bake but they wouldn't be as cooled as I'd like in the time left.

I tap the counter as I watch the timer move achingly slow. I'm so tense that when it hits 0 and rings I jump and bang my hip on the counter.

I pull the tray out and leave the cookies to stand, the smell of chocolate flooding the kitchen. I flip on the coffee machine.

Voices carry down the stairs and following them is their owners. Dimitri and Mr Dashkov come into view as they step off the bottom step. Dimitri looks toward me and Mr Dashkov's speech trails off as his head lifts and he turns toward the kitchen.

I look away.

"It smells delicious in here. Are you baking Rose?"

I nod and his footsteps get closer. Lighter ones close behind.

The coffee machine beeps.

"My Dear, you're spoiling us."

"Voda's here!" Spiridon shouts, thumping down the stairs.

"Ah, good…better put those cookies away for now Rose and open a window. Alexander's diabetic and I think it would be cruel to tease him." Mr Dashkov smiles kindly, not realizing or not caring how confused I am.

He turns back to Dimitri and murmurs something to him. Dimitri nods and turns away, walking toward the front door Spiridon has opened. He passes out the door and Spiridon looks over at me and grins.

A little stunned I open the kitchen window.

I turn back to see a man in dark suit being greeted by Mr Dashkov. Three male guardians dressed in black stand behind him, expressionless. They nod at Spiridon who stands just behind Mr Dashkov. Their greeting a lot more quiet than Mr Dashkov and his guest who embrace each other warmly.

"Good to see you Alexander. Coffee?"

"Only if it's the proper stuff. The academy could only rustle up instant, horrible." The other man says and grimaces.

Mr Dashkov smiles and claps his shoulder.

"Make yourself at home." He gestures or the other man to go into the living room and turns toward me. "Rose, two coffee's please. One black without any sugar I believe and you know how I take mine."

I nod but he's already turned away and Ben steps off the stairs, shadowing him.

I move the cookies over to the open window and pour out the coffee.

I wipe at the cuff of her sweater where flour clings to it. It just gets worse and I take a deep breath so the anxiety doesn't rocket out of me.

Willing my hands not to shake I pick up the two mugs and bring them to the living room, feeling like I wasn't completely in control of my own legs.

Mr Dashkov's friend, Alexander Voda, was reclining on the sofa with his host beside him. They were both chatting companionable, a connection between them that made me curious and envious.

Mr Dashkov thanks me as I put the mugs down on the coasters.

"It hardly seems fair making me coffee without the delicious treats I can smell." Voda says, leaning forward to take his drink.

"We didn't mean to tease Alex." Mr Dashkov grins. "Rose just likes to spoil us."

I had turned to leave the room as they'd talked and the mention of name keys me up tighter.

"Rose, is it?"

The man's voice brings me up short and I take a deep breath before turning. His smile reminded me of Spiridon's.

"Yes."

His eyes search my face.

"A lot of weight in a name. I can see you live up to yours…do you like your new home?"

My heart constricts.

Mr Dashkov's smile loses its warmth as he watches his friend.

"Yes sir."

"Sir is it?" He says, looking like I'd said something very amusing. "Victor's very lucky to have someone like you to look after him."

"Yes I am." Mr Dashkov declares, sitting forward. His voice had an underlining hardness to it. "Thank you Rose."

It was a dismissal I'd never been gladder to have.

"I can't have any treats but surely some could be spared to my boys here? They deserve something sweet."

"The cookies are cooling in the kitchen. Chad and Alec, feel free to help yourselves." Mr Dashkov says.

"Don't help yourselves too much." Spiridon says and their laughter follows me back to the kitchen.

I just had to load the dishwasher and then I'd go collect the laundry from the dryer.

As I'm loading it wish dishes the Guardians come into the kitchen and begin taking cookies. They ignore me and I them. Except for Ben who takes one bite and makes an over exaggerated moaning noise.

"Rose, if you want to bake every day that is fine by me."

"She'll have you rolling around this house." One of Voda's Guardians replies. "But damn they are good. I hope I get a wife that cooks."

"You'll be lucky to get a wife at all." Spiridon answers.

I close up the dishwasher and turn it on.

I look and find the guardian who'd made the wife comment watching me. He bites into his cookie and the look he's giving me makes me feel unclean.

I start to cross the room when Ben calls me to a halt.

"Here." He says, taking a small plate from the draining board. He scoops four cookies onto it and holds it out to me. "The chef needs to sample the goods too. You could save one for Belikov because I doubt there will be anymore survivors down here."

I take it and nod.

As I'm rounding the corner I hear one of the new Guardians say. "I'm bet there are other reasons Ozera was pissed you picked that one up."

I retreat into the supply room and close the door. Leaning back against it I allow myself to drag in calming breaths. I shrug off anxiety on my shoulders, rolling them until they're no longer stiff. I shake my hands out and bury the way that Guardian was looking at me.

It wasn't the same here. It wasn't the Ozera's where Guardians could just…do anything. It wasn't. I had to hold on to how Mr Dashkov's expression had darkened when Voda had spoken to me. I had to believe it was for me…but my mind reels away from that idea.

I was nothing.

Mr Dashkovs friends could speak to me whichever way they wanted. It meant nothing. He was most likely annoyed by my attire and imposing on their meeting for longer than necessary.

I push it all down.

I take the laundry out of the dryer and then put the next load in. I put the plate of cookies on top of the freshly folded clothes and the smell of fresh cotton and chocolate wraps around me. I'd let myself have one when I'd put everything away and Dimitri could have the rest.

I lift the basket and inhale the clean, sweet scent before opening the door.

The party in the living room ignore me and I them.

Upstairs I leave the cookies in my room. I felt a little odd about it, putting treats in my room, but I didn't know what else to do with them.

I stop at Bens room first as his things were all folded on top. There wasn't much that marked the difference between Ben and Spiridon's clothes as they were all the same colour scheme. Black, with the exception of a few items. The only indicator was the sizes. Spiridon was taller and Ben was broader.

Walking into Spiridon's room was a completely different experience from earlier. It was like walking into a cool, clean meadow. I begin humming. How Spiridon's room hadn't harbouring rats I didn't know, it smelt worse than the barn and we had our fair share of rodents.

I leave the room feeling much lighter.

Even Spiridon's trick on me with the cookies couldn't make me feel bad, now I knew to expect it. I was proud of what I'd accomplished today, cleaning a house by myself, having a meal ready and I was already planning out dinner. Yeah I had some help from Dimitri so I didn't completely deserve all the credit but soon I would. Soon I wouldn't need help.

I probably shouldn't get ahead of myself, maybe it would make me trip but I couldn't help it.

My steps lighters as I fetch the next load from the supply room and only when I'm folding the clothes do I realize I'm smiling to myself.

It was nice.

Walking back up the stairs I glance at the living room to see if Dimitri had come back.

He hadn't.

Ben, Spiridon and one of Voda's Guardians are watching TV. Their Moroi are sitting at the dining table, completely absorbed in conversation and paperwork.

I climb the stairs, the ache in my legs not even fazing me because I knew cookies were waiting at the end of it. I put away the rest of Ben and Spiridon's things, wondering if Dimitri did his own washing. Well he would have to I suppose…unless he had someone else to do it for him.

But his mother was in Russia.

Weren't they?

Maybe there would be something about Russia in the library.

I start scrubbing at my cuff again. The flour had gone crusty and seeped deeper into the material. I was going to have to clean it somehow. I could try back at my room and if that didn't work I would have to get more creative. Like sneaking some washing powder up. I couldn't wash my clothes because I had nothing else to wear and washing them at night could wake everyone else up.

I close my bedroom door pulling my arm inside her sweater to take it off.

I freeze.

Seconds pass, the silence broken when I have to draw breath.

"These really are good, darlin." The Guardian says, biting into a cookie.

He was sitting on the bed and watching me like he had before. He devours the second half of the cookie.

I look at the door.

"I wouldn't." He says.

He stands.

I should run. I should scream. I should step back.

I can't do anything of these things.

He was tall. Not as tall as Dimitri. He had thick arms and a thick body and he probably weighed as much as the small car in the garage.

I snap out of these thoughts when I realize his chest is in front of my nose. His fingers take hold of my chin and tilt it up.

"Look at me with those big eyes." He whispers and then bites down on his lip. "We're going to have a lot of fun."

The pressure was rushing to my head.

He lets go and steps back, looking me up and down like he could see through my clothes.

The bandages nip at my ribs, reassuring me, frightening me.

"You're like a little doll."

He reaches up and tugs at the hair tie. My shoulders start to shake as my hair falls down around me.

He takes a lock between his fingers and runs them down past my cheek, my neck, stopping where it ends at my chest.

"A lot of fun." He murmurs, twirling my hair around his fingers.

He yanks hard, pulling me down and I'm no longer dazed. I cry out as my knees hit the ground and he forces my head back.

"Keep your eyes on me baby."

He reaches for his belt.

Images are flying through my head. My mother and the Master, my mother waking me one morning with bandages, my mother telling me to no longer call her Janine, Hans grinning down at me…Stabbing the strigoi, Hans lying unconscious, Dimitri standing in front of me in a hostile room, Dimitri promising my mother.

My promise to survive.

The sound of his fly being unzipped brings the room into focus.

I suddenly feel calm as he reaches inside his trousers. His other hand is still in my hair.

His loose waistband holds a stake.

I reach out and tear it free. He stumbles sideways, not expecting sabotage on his balance. My head is yanked sideways by his clutch.

I drive the stake down into his foot until it hits resistance.

He cries out, a brief growl out of anger more than pain and I pull free of his grasp.

I scramble for the door, first on my hands and knees but I manage to get to my feet and my palms touch upon the door. A hand fastens on the back of my sweater and I'm swung around, my feet leave the ground as I'm flung back into the room. I hit the side of the bed and it pushes back against me so I'm thrown back to the floor.

My lungs won't accept air, I'm gasping like plastics is stretched over my mouth.

"Stupid little bitch." He spits.

He drops down, his knees on either side of my hips and turns me over so I' m flat on my back.

I scream before I even realize I'm screaming.

A blow to my face has me looking blearily under the bed and a rough hand is pulling at my waistband.

There's a small explosion and the physical weight pressing down on me disappears.

Just gone.

Numbly I turn my head, my cheek stinging fiercely and try to distinguish through blurry eyes.

Dimitri has the Guardian pinned by his throat to the wall.

The Guardians face is bloody, scarlet streaming from his nose and mouth, staining his teeth. His hand grips Dimitri's wrist trying to pry it off. The other hand is desperately groping the wall.

Dimitri's face is a furious landscape. Sharp angles and piercing eyes. He was frightening but I wasn't frightened. What I wanted to know what he was saying because he was speaking. His lips were pulling back over his teeth, shaping lethal words I couldn't hear because my head was filled with buzzing.

He slams the Guardian back into the wall. The Guardian swings at Dimitri and hits him but he may as well have hit a wall as walls don't react either. Dimitri retaliates by driving his fist into the Guardian's stomach and then brings his knee up when he doubles over. Somewhere in all this sound comes rushing back.

There is a lot of yelling.

I crawl under the bed as grunts and heavy thuds pulse around me.

"DIMITRI. DIMITRI YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HIM!"

Ben.

"WHAT THE HELL."

Spiridon.

"STOP. STOP!"

I watch all the black boots scuffle around the floor.

My stinging cheek was starting to blossom bruises and I clamp my shaking hands over my ears, wanting it to stop.

Wanting it all to just stop.

/

Bullshit update time is bullshit right?

Sorry guys, I moved house and started back at Uni so things have been crazy. Hoped you enjoyed this chapter it was worth the wait. It wasn't supposed to end here but this chapter went on a lot longer than planned.

Hell hath no fury like a 6'7 Russian from a family of women.


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